


The Viscount and the Pearl

by MimiDubois_1620



Category: The Tudors
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-30
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-28 02:00:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 106,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/986312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimiDubois_1620/pseuds/MimiDubois_1620
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Queen of England gave her brother, Viscount Beauchamp a command: Visit the newly restored to favor Lady Mary to learn what she required when she returned to court. Who would have thought that in presenting the superb mount to the lady that he was also endanger of presenting her his heart? AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter I

The Viscount and the Pearl: Chapter I 

I can show you the world  
Shining, shimmering, splendid  
Tell me, princess, now when did  
You last let your heart decide?  
I can open your eyes  
Take you wonder by wonder  
Over, sideways and under  
On a magic carpet ride  
A whole new world  
A new fantastic point of view  
No one to tell us no  
Or where to go  
Or say we're only dreaming  
A whole new world  
A dazzling place I never knew  
But when I'm way up here  
It's crystal clear  
That now I'm in a whole new world with you  
Now I'm in a whole new world with you  
Unbelievable sights  
Indescribable feeling  
Soaring, tumbling, freewheeling  
Through an endless diamond sky  
A whole new world  
Don't you dare close your eyes  
A hundred thousand things to see  
Hold your breath - it gets better  
I'm like a shooting star  
I've come so far  
I can't go back to where I used to be  
A whole new world  
Every turn a surprise  
With new horizons to pursue  
Every moment red-letter  
I'll chase them anywhere  
There's time to spare  
Let me share this whole new world with you  
A whole new world  
That's where we'll be  
A thrilling chase  
A wondrous place  
For you and me-  
"A Whole New World" from Disney's ALADDIN

 

Hunsdon House  
Late Spring 1536  
"He is fair to look upon." The slender and pale young woman clad in black observed staring at the miniature in front of her.  
"That he is! Your Royal Highness, Viscount Beauchamp has arrived and is down in the courtyard awaiting permission to wait upon Your Royal Highness."  
The black clad figure turned her attention from the devastatingly handsome visage of the swarthy man she had been studying that was depicted in the tiny portrait of Don Franco Hapsburg. Chapyus had smuggled it to her in a recent packet of letters. There were rumors that Don Franco was being considered as a possible husband for her along with several other men now that Mary was back in favor, including Queen Jane's brother, Thomas.  
Smoothing out her skirts, Mary made her way to greet her guest. She knew the Queen's elder brother, Edward, came on Her Majesty's business and must be afforded every courtesy. Accompanied by several of her women and her steward.  
Despite her somber attire, it was as though the sun had peaked through the clouds and added warmth and promise to such a damp and cloudy day or so Edward Seymour thought when he saw the King's eldest daughter enter the courtyard. At twenty years of age, Mary Tudor had fulfilled the promise of beauty that he witnessed the indications of when he had last seen her five years previous when she was on the verge of womanhood. Not one to be as interested in such matters as other men, Edward knew the importance of such things in persons of importance nor was he immune to them. That long mass of thick red-gold hair, that pale, flawless complexion only marked with it appeared to be, several quite fetching little freckles, those large sapphire blue eyes, with the slightly darker brows and even darker long curling lashes that brushed modestly against her cheeks and what appeared to be a neat and trim figure rounded in all the proper places that would please a man would serve her well now that the king was prepared to search about seriously for a husband for her in the various courts of Christendom. King Henry would have no troubles finding a man to marry his lovely daughter. He regretted the fact quite sincerely that he already had a wife otherwise he would have most certainly made his ambitions known to the proper persons capable about bringing about such a union.  
"Viscount Beauchamp, welcome to Hunsdon." Mary greeted Edward warmly, totally oblivious as to what manner of thoughts were swirling about the viscount's handsome head. For he was handsome, incredibly so, if truth be told, even a young woman as sheltered as Mary had been in matters between men and women knew the look of a man that would turn a lady's head. He also appeared to be the consummate courtier, taking her proffered hand in one of his own to press his lips against it. His cold blue eyes flashing with what she could only discern as warmth when their eyes met, his pupils dilated with undisguised interest. She felt a gentle blush steal into her pale cheeks.  
"My Lady, I bring felicitations and greetings from Her Majesty, Queen Jane. Her Majesty wishes that all be as it should be when Your Ladyship travels to court. I am under strict instructions to obtain a list of what manner of clothing Your Ladyship may be needing since Your Ladyship by such time will be in half mourning and therefore may be entitled to introduce more colors to Your Ladyship's wardrobe as it has come to my attention. Her Majesty the Queen would be most delighted in helping to furnish that which you may require. I have taken the liberty of providing Your Ladyship with a mount, so as it pleases Your Ladyship to ride and hunt. I do hope that she will prove to be most agreeable to Your Ladyship. Please accept her as a humble gift of my gratefulness in the pleasure and comfort that your restoration has brought, Her Majesty the Queen Jane, my sister. However, Your Ladyship, due to His Majesty the King's gracious clemency and merciful pity he has overcome his anger at Your Ladyship's unkind an unnatural behavior during the past troubles. His Majesty is anxious to see Your Ladyship and looks forward to a full reconciliation in several days time." Edward told Mary, as two grooms brought forth a superb horse, a small white Arab mare with a pale grey mane and tail. Mary's face alighted with pleasure at the sight of her. The horse, sensing her delight immediately walked over and dipped her elegant head, nuzzling her velvety nose against Mary's neck near the spot where the erstwhile princess's neck and shoulder met.  
To be that pretty mare at this moment! Edward Seymour thought to himself watching the horse and the delight on Mary's face feeling the unbidden pulls of an intense physical attraction to the golden haired eldest child of his sovereign.  
Mary lifted the mare's head, looking into her eyes. "Does she have a name?" She asked Edward.  
"She is called Persephone after the Goddess of the Spring, Your Ladyship." Edward replied, taking great pleasure in watching the pure delight in Mary's face as she continued to speak to the animal in a hushed and calm voice that it seemed to be warming to.  
"A most appropriate name, Viscount Beauchamp." Mary said, formally. "Did you have a hand in choosing her?"  
"Yes, Your Ladyship, if it pleases you. Her Majesty, given my experience with horseflesh placed the choosing of a mount to my care, having been His Grace of Richmond's Master of the Horse." He said, watching the color in her eyes change ever so slightly, deepening to a stormy blue, she appeared a wee bit agitated at the mention of her half-brother but did not show it in her expression. For a fleeting moment he wondered what color those beautiful sapphire eyes would become, if any, when she was aroused and impassioned in a lover's arms.  
The horse tossed its head several times, causing Mary to fall backward in surprise losing her balance briefly. Thank goodness the viscount was there to break her fall his hands grasping about her forearms as Mary's back brushed against his front, Edward noticing how well she fit against him, as if God had made them for one another, two pieces of one perfect whole, unable to help smiling as she started at the brush of her backside against his rock hard thighs. "Steady now, Lady Mary, 'twill be all right. I will not let you fall. I promise." Edward reassured her silently damning his present predicament. If he was only in a position to court a lady.  
"Thank you, My Lord Beauchamp. Does your Lordship intend to stay or must Your Lordship return to court? I do promise to have that list prepared and completed for when Your Lordship leaves. Would you care to come inside from some refreshment? It is damp and cool here in the courtyard. The manor house boasts a nice warm fire. I would be mortified if I was the cause of Your Lordship catching a chill or mayhap worse." She asked, turning about slightly in his arms her face inches from his, if he wished he could take a taste of her sweet lips, she was so close that he could smell the rose scent that she wore. It hung in the damp air between them, sensual and inviting. Innocent little virgin had no idea what she was doing to him at present.  
"I would not wish to distress, Your Ladyship." Edward replied, smiling down at her, showing his dimples.  
The smile she returned was radiant, making her appear even lovelier if that were at all possible. "How kind of you, My Lord." Mary said, leading him inside the manor house, the horse been taken to the stables by two grooms. "You have ridden hard, Lord Beauchamp. I have placed at Your Lordship's disposal a bath or a basin of warm water and soap to wash the dust from your travels if your lordship requires it."  
"Would your ladyship attend me in the bath as is the custom of the Lady of the Manor?" He asked, his blue eyes hopeful.  
"If I was a proper matron, My Lord but I am as yet a maid. It would not be proper for such as me to view your lordship in such a state of undress." Mary replied.  
"They had best have your ladyship soon wedded and bedded." Edward remarked.  
Mary blushed at the implication of his words, what manner of thoughts and impressions of her were behind those dark navy colored eyes when he looked at her? The flash and fire in his eyes when he looked at her, his features softening. No man had ever looked at her thusly in her twenty years. What did it mean? She found it incredibly unsettling and disturbing these as yet unfamiliar feelings. Was this the beginnings of the passion and desire that the poets spoke of and Holy Mother Church warned against? She was happy when he left to wash the dust from his travels.  
He found her in a portion of the Great Hall, seated at a table apparently placing the finishing touches on the list of what she required. He silenced the majordomo with a hand, preferring to come upon her as she wrote, her upper teeth biting her lower lip in slight vexation as she scribbled and then dipped the quill back in the inkpot at her right hand, hovering it above the paper, closing her eyes for a brief moment, sighing, then scribbling some more.  
"Do not feel remorse, Madame. Ask for all you require and more. It will all be provided for you without restraint." He told her, standing directly beside her, smiling once again. He could not help it.  
"Thank you, Lord Beauchamp, I made be of a mind to heed your sound advice. I trust that you found the bath warm enough and agreeable?" Mary asked.  
"Yes, Thank you. It was most agreeable. I am much improved." Edward answered.  
"Would you care from some refreshment?" Mary asked as the servants brought forth wine and cakes, fruit and an array of cheeses as Edward sat down in a chair near her.  
"Please." Edward said, a plate and cloth for his hands being placed before him, a goblet of wine was poured and placed on his right, Mary's was poured. "Shall we drink a toast to the King's Grace?"  
"The King's Grace." Mary repeated pressing her goblet against Edward's in toast, then taking a drink, the two of them sitting down to a small repast, Mary going back to finish the last portion of her list which she then handed into Edward's keeping.  
They spent the rest of the afternoon playing backgammon and chess, chatting amiably with one another on various matters. Both incredibly happy to learn that the other was quite intelligent and well read, they discussed various books such as More's Utopia and Chaucer's Canterbury Tales as they played their games chatting in various different languages primarily French, Italian and Latin with a wee bit of Welsh and Irish tossed in for good measure, Mary besting Edward with her knowledge of Irish but Edward holding his own quite well in Welsh. The two of them quite at ease with one another.  
Spending several hours with Mary Tudor, Edward could not help compare the King's Daughter with his own wife, Anne. Despite the troubles she had been through, Mary Tudor was like the sun, warm and radiant without guile or malice, looking forward to the promise of a new day. Anne, his wife was like the moon, prone to moods and various phases of temper and personality. A shrew, truly, with a sharp and scathing tongue and a roving eye. Both women were beautiful, Anne was a brunette with pale skin and green eyes. The King's daughter's hair as he had already noted was a thick mass of red-gold curls that fell to her tiny waist, her skin like fine alabaster, her eyes like brilliant sapphires. Like the sun, the Lady Mary was beginning to eclipse Anne in his eyes. Edward found himself wishing to bask in vitality of the young woman, be drawn in by her sexual allure, an allure that the virginal Mary was totally unaware that she possessed. Edward felt himself increasingly pulled toward it the more hours that he spent in her presence, like a moth to a flame.  
The evening meal was held in the hall with the household. It was elegant but simple. Afterward, Mary was persuaded to show off her expert skill on the virginals, her contralto voice blending nicely with Edward's baritone when they sang several madrigals and country songs together. Mary had almost forgotten that this was the man that had carved Archbishop Cranmer's meat at The Concubine's coronation three years past.  
Soon it was time for bed, the Viscount graciously offering to escort Mary to her chambers.  
"Good night, My Lady." Edward said, when they had reached the door.  
"Good night, My Lord. Once again, thank you ever so much once again for the lovely mare and a most pleasant day. I know that His Majesty expects you back at court on the morrow so you will be leaving at first light. I will be certain that there is a basket of food for you to enjoy on your journey. May God grant you a good night." She told him, leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss one of his cheeks and then the other, finishing by giving him a quick peck on the mouth as was custom.  
Even though it was just a mere peck upon his lips, Edward felt the stirrings of pure desire race through him. They were standing so close, the light from the torches in the hallway the only illumination upon their faces. He moved nearer to her as if pulled by a magnet, he was drawn to her, he could not help it, drawing her into his arms. Ah! To feast upon those pretty lips for a time not to just have an all too brief taste! He thought ruefully, their faces inching closer and closer together, until he could feel the warmth of her sweet breath upon his face. His head dipped, his mouth hovering dangerously close to hers. "I so want to kiss you." He stated, regretfully pulling away, knowing that if he did kiss her he would be most certainly unable to stop. "Good Night, My Lady. Sweet Dreams." He added, when he had released her.  
"If the Good Lord in His Mercy grants me a peaceful sleep, My Lord." She replied, her voice quavering. She was shaking and unsettled, happy to seek her bed. Unable to sleep that night, the feelings and confusion that he stirred within her keeping her awake until first light when she heard a commotion in the courtyard. He was leaving. Tossing the covers off her, she dashed to the window still in her low cut lawn night dress, her hair loose down her back, looking out into the early dawn, finding him immediately in the group of men, taller and straighter, she saw him look up and wave, his eyes lingering upon her quite a bit more so than protocol demanded, blowing her a quick kiss farewell, before turning his horse about and riding out on the way back to court with the knowledge that he greatly coveted a woman that was not his wife and had already broken one of God's Sacred Commandments in his heart. ____________________________________________________________________________________  
"Lady Mary," said Bryan as he bent forward in a lingering bow. "I wanted to apologize for my behavior. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."  
"I will try, Sir Francis. Jesus asks us to forgive everyone."  
Bryan stood straight and smiled. "If you like dancing, Lady Mary, there is a new game you might enjoy at court."  
Mary's brow went up. "What is it?"  
"It's called cunnilingus. It's an old country practice."  
"How do you play it?"  
"Well you..." The Bryan's shoulders began to shake, and he bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud.  
"I think you are making fun of me, Sir Francis," Mary said, her voice suddenly cooled. She turned and stalked away. Her mind curious as to what the old country practice truly was and what it meant. In her haste to move away from Sir Francis she found herself almost colliding with the Earl of Durham, whose family had supported her mother during the divorce.  
"My Lord, do excuse me! I fear I may have stepped upon your foot!" Mary exclaimed, concern upon her face.  
"No matter, Lady Mary. It does me well to see you back at court." He told her sincerely. My God! How she had blossomed in the last several years! He thought. She was well onto fulfilling the promise of beauty he had seen in her when she was a young girl. The king had best conclude the martial negotiations with Don Franco Hapsburg before the young lords of the court began to sniff about her; many had begun to notice her already. Many of the older ones as well, like him, even though his wife had not come to court.  
"Thank you, My Lord. It is a pleasure to have friends at court." She replied.  
"You know that you have a true and sincere friend in me, My Lady. As I was to your mother." Thomas Nicholls explained to Mary.  
"Mayhap, Your Lordship would be kind enough to explain to me what the new game, Sir Francis Bryan says is at court. I have been away for a time and would like to learn. Would you show me, Lord Durham? Please. I would be forever grateful." Mary asked. Certainly The Earl of Durham would know what cunnilingus was?  
They had moved over to an arras that covered one of the windows, the spot was secluded enough to keep those away from prying eyes.  
"Yes, Lady Mary. I would be delighted to teach you. What is the game of which Sir Francis speaks?"  
"It is called cunnilingus. Does your Lordship know how to play?" She asked innocently.  
The earl pulled Mary closer to the window. Curious virgin that she was, she obviously knew nothing of what she was talking about and was so eager to learn. "It is a game that lovers play, My Lady. Something that Don Franco, or the husband His Majesty chooses for you, will undoubtedly teach you." Oh, Good God! She was tempting!  
"Lovers play it? But you said you would be delighted to teach me. If you cannot, would you please show me another game lovers' play? I do not wish to appear completely ignorant of what occurs between a man and woman when I marry." She pleaded innocently, looking up into his handsome face, her sapphire blue eyes wide with curiosity, a hand reached out to touch his doublet. He started at the contact, all too physically aware of her close proximity. If the king found them together his life could be forfeit.  
"My Lady... "  
"Do you not find me pleasing, My Lord?" She asked, moving closer to him. "Please, just one little game, one little kiss?" She asked.  
Groaning in defeat, he took her in his arms, moving backward to where no one could see them. He held her close, an arm about her tiny waist, the fingers of the other tilting her chin up, their eyes locking, he could feel her trembling with anticipation and a desire that she did not yet know the meaning of. "One little kiss..." He whispered his lips brushing against one of her cheeks, quickly disengaging himself from the Lady Mary upon seeing the dark shadow of a man descend upon them. "Viscount Beauchamp." He said, acknowledging the Queen's older brother.  
"My Lord Durham, Her Majesty, my sister requires your presence. You may leave the Lady Mary within my keeping. She will be safe." Edward said, looking to the earl and the King's daughter.  
"Your Ladyship." Durham said moving off leaving Mary and Edward alone.  
"You know you should not be spending time with men in dark corners. It will sully Your Ladyship's reputation." He mentioned to Mary.  
"Lord Durham was going to teach me about kissing, so I would not be ignorant when I went to my husband, after he had refused to tell what cunnilingus was. Do you know, Viscount Beauchamp? Could you show me? Lord Durham said it was a game that lovers' play. Is that so?" Mary asked, innocently.  
"Yes, Lady Mary. It is an intimate game that lovers' play." Edward explained. Like the earl, he found her virgin's curiosity intriguing.  
"Lord Durham told me that Don Franco would show me when we married. Is that so?" She asked.  
"One would imagine."  
"And kissing?" She asked.  
"What about kissing?"  
"Would you show me? I have never been properly kissed. I do not wish to go to my marriage bed totally ignorant, Viscount."  
Edward sighed. She was sorely tempting him. She had blossomed into a lovely young woman, a young woman, despite his better judgment, he felt drawn and attracted to. What would one little kiss hurt? "Yes, just one. Then no more questions, My Lady." He replied his voice sterner than he had intended it to. Better he be the one to do it than some other man who may want more than just one kiss.  
Drawing her into his embrace, he felt her instinctively arch her back up, her breasts crushing against the velvet of his doublet, as he pulled her closer to him, lifting her chin up to crush his mouth against hers, kissing her passionately.  
Mary stood up on her tiptoes, winding her arms about his neck, as she kissed him back, tentatively at first, her mouth moving against his lower lip, testing the waters, not knowing if he found her pleasing. Her sweet innocence proved her undoing.  
Murmuring a vulgar oath, he pulled her back further against the window, affording them more privacy. His tongue snaking out from between his lips, tracing the seam of her mouth until it slowly opened, allowing his tongue to caress hers for a few short moments, before he tore his mouth from hers. She could see his shoulders rising and falling as his breath came in short pants as he strove to calm his unsteady breathing. What had just happened? No woman had ever made him this unsettled and aroused before. "That, My Lady, is what kissing is all about." He explained when he was finally able to get his breath.  
"Is it always this way?" She asked, looking up at him, her fingertips caressing her swollen lips. She felt as though she had been branded.  
"What way is that?" He asked.  
"Does one always feel like one is melting when one kisses?" She asked innocently.  
"No." He replied, knowing that he had just opened a Pandora's Box of feelings. It would be within his best interest to stay clear of the Lady Mary in the future, he thought to himself. She may prove to be his undoing... but he could not deny to himself any longer that he truly wanted her in his bed. And what Edward Seymour wanted, he usually got.


	2. Chapter 2

The Viscount and the Pearl: Chapter II 

Ladies up in here tonight  
No fighting, no fighting  
We got the refugees up in here  
No fighting, no fighting  
Shakira, Shakira  
I Never really knew that she could dance like this  
She makes a man want to speak Spanish  
Como se llama, bonita, mi casa, su casa?  
Shakira, Shakira  
Oh baby when you talk like that  
You make a woman go mad  
So be wise and keep on   
Reading the signs of my body   
And I'm on tonight   
You know my hips don't lie  
And I'm starting to feel it's right  
All the attraction, the tension  
Don't you see baby, this is perfection  
Hey Girl, I can see your body moving   
And it's driving me crazy  
And I, didn't have the slightest idea  
Until I saw you dancing  
And when you walk up on the dance floor  
Nobody cannot ignore the way you move your body, girl  
And everything so unexpected -the way you right and left it  
So you can keep on shaking it  
I never really knew that she could dance like this   
She makes a man want to speak Spanish  
Como se llama, si bonita, si mi casa, su casa  
Shakira, Shakira  
Oh baby when you talk like that  
You make the woman go mad  
So be wise and keep on   
Reading the signs of my body  
I am on tonight  
You know my hips don't lie  
And I am starting to feel you boy  
Come on lets go, real slow  
Don't you see baby asi es perfecto

Oh I know I am on tonight my hips don't lie  
And I am starting to feel it's right  
All the attraction, the tension  
Don't you see baby, this is perfection  
Shakira, Shakira  
Oh boy, I can see your body moving  
Half animal, half man  
I don't, don't really know what I'm doing  
But you seem to have a plan   
My will and self restraint   
Have come to fail now, fail now  
See, I am doing what I can, but I can't so you know  
That's a bit too hard to explain  
Baila en la calle de noche  
Baila en la calle de noche  
Baila en la calle de noche  
Baila en la calle de día  
I never really knew that she could dance like this   
She makes a man want to speak Spanish  
Como se llama, si bonita, si mi casa, su casa  
Shakira, Shakira  
Oh baby when you talk like that  
You know you got me hypnotized  
So be wise and keep on   
Reading the signs of my body  
Señorita, feel the conga, let me see you move like you come from Colombia  
Mira en Barranquilla se baila así, say!   
Mira en Barranquilla se baila así  
Yeah  
She's so sexy every man's fantasy a refugee like me back with the refugees from a 3rd world country  
I go back like when 'pac carried crates for Humpty Humpty  
We need a whole club dizzy  
Why the CIA wanna watch?  
From Colombians and Haitians  
I ain't guilty, it's a musical transaction   
No more do we snatch ropes   
Refugees run the seas 'cause we own our own boats   
I'm on tonight, my hips don't lie  
And I'm starting to feel you boy  
Come on let's go, real slow  
Baby, like this is perfecto

Oh, you know I'm on tonight and my hips don't lie  
And I am starting to feel it's right  
The attraction, the tension  
Baby, like this is perfection.  
No fighting!   
No Fighting.- "Hips Don't Lie" -Shakira 

 

It was completely futile! Whatever he did to forget about the taste of that sweet innocent mouth upon his own was completely futile! If he closed his eyes and brought his fingertips to his lips he could still taste the sweet wine and the faint hint of spearmint, which she chewed to sweeten her breath. Exhaling softly, he felt the heat curl within his lower abdomen, his pulse quickening, the blood rushing to his normally cool and level head and his nether regions. Rolling over onto his back, he sighed in frustration, punching the feather pillows beneath him. He had not been able to sleep well these past several nights after what had happened between them. The only places he could escape from her were those where women were not allowed, His Majesty's Privy Chamber and the Council Chamber and of course, his own private apartments. Even then, she was not far from his thoughts because of the present discussions regarding her impending marriage to Don Franco Hapsburg. Nights were the worst, when she came to him with Morpheus in his dreams, innocently curious to what awaited her in the marriage bed. In those particular dreams he had been more than willing to tutor her in the ways of passion, delighting in hearing her cries of fulfillment and sighs of pleasure as he introduced her to the wicked delights and secrets that occurred between a man and a woman. He would awaken from these dreams tangled within the bedclothes, sweat covering his body and with a raging erection. Fortunately Anne, his wife, was otherwise occupied. She had not been witness to the turmoil that his growing desire for the King's eldest child was creating. But it was not just a physical passion; there was also an intense desire to protect her, the innately chivalrous part of his nature coming to the fore. He was finding that the more time the two of them spent in one another's company that he genuinely enjoyed being with her, finding himself searching about his sister, Queen Jane's chambers for the Lady Mary when he entered them, always seeking her out, speaking with her, engaging her in a game of cards, chess or backgammon. Speaking to her regarding the latest books they had both been reading. Despite the riot of feelings that she created in him internally, Edward could not seem to stay away from her. Even though he knew that he risked finding himself in another situation where he would wish to take another taste of her sweet mouth and draw her into another embrace or worse! 

Tossing the covers off, he climbed out of the large lonely four poster bed, his grooms and servants were finishing preparing his morning bath. Edward stripped off the braes covering his nether regions, now naked he stepped into the warm water having a care to hide his raging erection from those attending him, grasping a small piece of toweling, submerging it under the water to cover it, fortunately the contact of the water made it reduce in size a wee bit as well as he settled in the tub.   
He bathed quickly and dressed, remembering His Majesty's instructions the previous evening. The king, in an attempt to protect his Precious Pearl from the male attention she had been recently attracting, especially within the circle of young bucks at court which included his younger brother in law, Thomas Seymour, had instructed Edward to take the Lady Mary riding this morning after Mass. Trusting the care of his eldest daughter into the hands of a man who King Henry knew he could trust implicitly, no harm would come to her reputation whilst she was with Viscount Beauchamp, or so the sovereign believed. Edward would have been packed over to the Tower if the king were privy to his private feelings for Henry Tudor's beautiful ginger haired girl. Edward had no recourse but to accept the Royal Command he had been given without complaint and to perform it best to his ability no matter how dangerous to his own well being it may prove to be.   
Such thoughts swirled about in his head when he made his way to the Lady Mary's apartments, crossing the threshold into the Presence Chamber which was elegantly furnished. "Viscount Beauchamp to see the Lady Mary." He said to one of the maids who nodded venturing through the open door that lead to, what Edward imagined was the bedchamber. He could hear the faint sounds of water splashing about and women chattering. A faint exotic scent, one that he had never smelt before came snaking out from the open door, swirling about him and enticing him to move closer to it just as the lady rose from the water of the scallop shaped tub, rumored to be a gift from Don Franco. 

He stood there transfixed, unable to tear his gaze away from her, like Venus she was silhouetted against the scalloped shaped shell bath, her red-gold hair tumbled about her covering one of her beautiful young breasts, the other exposed, the nipple puckered in the coolness of the morning air. Her skin was magnificent, pale like the finest alabaster, the early morning sun casting dappled patterns upon it through the lead casement windows. He let his gaze travel lower over her torso down her belly, her fetching little navel that he ached to nip at with his teeth. Admiring the sweet swell of her hips that showcased the tangle of red gold curls covering her mont. She possessed a body that would tempt any man to sin. Don Franco would be most fortunate to have such as the Lady Mary to share his bed, Edward thought as a jolt of pure desire ran through him, his navy colored gaze meeting her sapphire one through the door way the imagine of her body seared in his mind for all eternity. He could imagine the pink tinge that stole all over her from the tops of her head to the tips of her toes as her servants came forward to wrap her in an enormous bit of Turkish toweling, another gift from the seafaring don, Edward imagined, stepping away from the opening. "Tell the Lady Mary that I will attend her at nine of the clock this morning. That Her Ladyship should be prepared for riding." 

"Yes, My Lord Beauchamp" One of the servants said, inclining his head in respect. "Does His Majesty..." 

"Do not question your betters, man! His Majesty was the one that commanded that I attend to the lady." Edward said, arrogantly, turning to leave Mary's apartments but not without one last glance at the open bedchamber door where he found her staring back at him, holding the Turkish towel against her bosom with an arm, barely covering her, the rest trailing down her front to pool at her feet. Quickly turning away, the blush stealing in her cheeks when their eyes met once again, his mouth lifting in a sardonic smile before finally exiting the chamber. 

Mary knew that she could not protest the King's Command to ride out with Lord Beauchamp that morning, it would be futile to feign any sort of illness even a headache. What manner of harm was in it? Lord Beauchamp was a knight, a true gentleman completely unlike his younger brother, the rakish Thomas. He was her uncle by marriage, since the Queen was her stepmother and Edward Seymour's sister. It would be much more amusing to spend time riding about the country side with such as him then to sit about in the gardens on such a lovely day as this listening to the young gentlemen's attempts at wooing her. It was flattering but she did so love to ride and be outdoors in the fresh air. During the last three years she had not been given many opportunities to ride. She was quite enjoying her new found freedom. 

She took great care when changing into one of the new riding habits that had been made at the expense of Queen Jane from the list that Mary had provided Lord Beauchamp when he had visited her at Hunsdon. Mary knew that the seamstresses had worked day and night to present her with these new garments, that more were still being made. The one she chose was in Tudor Green trimmed with pearls and sapphires at the neck of the low cut bodice, the sleeves cut as a man's doublet, full and slashed, pulling the white satin of her chemise through, the buttons down the front were Tudor roses, red and white combined, the underskirt was split to show a kirtle of the same design with wee Cadwallader dragons embroidered within the roses. She wore a cap with a curling ostrich plume upon her hair which was left loose to fall in curls about to her waist since she was still a maid. Before leaving her bedchamber to meet the viscount in the courtyard as had been decided, she paused to daub a bit of the new scented oil that Don Franco had sent her, jasmine it was called, upon her pulse points and between her breasts, the fragrance mingling with that of the rose scented powder that had been applied after her bath that morning, the combination of the two fragrances creating and exotic and enticing one of their own. Slipping on her gloves, she and her ladies went out to meet Edward Seymour. 

He was where he told her he would be, near the stable, holding onto the reins of her new mare whilst a groom held those of his fine bay stallion. 

"Lady Mary, Good Day to you! It is so good of you to accompany me!" Edward exclaimed as she approached him, his smile genuinely warm as he greeted her. 

"Good Day to you, Lord Beauchamp!" Mary said, her smile just as warm, a blush staining her cheeks when she looked up into his dark blue eyes, which gazed at her knowingly, the pupils dilated. She instinctively knew that when he was looking at her he was remembering what had happened in her apartments that morning especially when they swept over her riding habit appreciatively, lingering at the bodice and hips, moistening his lower lip with his tongue. "I had one of the cooks pack us some necessities. There are some pasties, fruit tarts, cheese, apples and a small jug of wine in the event that we become hungry." Mary added, unable to tear her eyes from his. She swallowed, hard feeling the heat steal down from her cheeks over her neck to her chest, her stomach turning over, fire stealing into her lower abdomen. Sending up a small prayer to heaven when the Earl of Durham spying the pair, approached them. 

"Pri... Lady Mary it does me well to see you. I had thought that you would be in the gardens today and would have been kind enough to shoot at the archery butts but I see that you are otherwise engaged. Lord Beauchamp." Thomas Nicholls greeted Mary, his blue-gray eyes warm and friendly the gaze changing to cold and formal when he looked at the viscount. 

"His Majesty is entrusting Her Ladyship's welfare into my keeping, Lord Durham." Edward said to the earl, his eyes just as cold as Durham's. "As she is dear and precious to His Majesty and my sister, Her Majesty Queen Jane you may trust that I take the honor bestowed upon me with reverence and levity. I would do nothing to endanger the lady, having her security and happiness as my top priority and concern. You may rest assured, My Lord, that nothing evil or immoral will befall her, Lord Durham." 

"See that it is so, My Lord." Durham replied, coldly. Not intimidated at all by the Queen's elder brother. The earl did not care for the way the viscount was gazing at the lady, like a wolf anticipating feasting upon his most delicious prey.

"I trust that your lady wife, the Countess is well. I had heard that she lost a child. My most sincere condolences. I trust the others continue to thrive?" Edward added, none too subtly reminding the earl that he had a wife up north. The king had decided that Edward was to protect his eldest daughter. The earl had no business meddling. Edward did not care for the way the earl's blue-gray eyes gazed at Mary Tudor either. There was more than mere reverence behind them for the princess and her late mother, Queen Katherine and what they represented. The handsome earl was burning with a passion for the young woman! A passion that Edward Seymour shared. 

"They do. I have heard that several of Don Franco's ships have docked in London. That the don has been most generous in his gifts to your ladyship. I have heard rumors of a necklace of Persian sapphires. Is it true? Soon, God Willing, you will be married!" Durham saw Edward flinch slightly at his last sentence, a corner of the earl's mouth lifted. If he could not have her the parvenu Seymour, despite being His Majesty's brother by marriage now, could not either. Seymour dare not set aside his shrew of a wife for an even bigger prize. Durham knew that the man's ambition was such that Edward Seymour would do it if the King was well disposed and agreeable. What man would not want to have a young lady that all of Christendom still viewed as Heiress Presumptive to the English throne in their bed? 

"His Majesty and the Privy Council will decide that, My Lord. Until such a time, His Majesty has entrusted the lady's governance and protection into my keeping as I have explained to Your Lordship. If you would please excuse us, the horses have become impatient. We had best set out as we had intended, My Lord." Edward said, nodding respectably toward Durham steering the Lady Mary away not before the earl took a moment to give her proper obeisance. Edward frowning with impatience, he did not like the earl's continued solicitation of the lovely young woman. 

Edward was relieved when he, Mary and the horses reached the nearby mounting block and the earl was retreating across the courtyard, with the Lady Mary's eyes upon him until Edward cleared his throat loudly, making her turn her head, focusing all of her attention back to him where it should be. "Ready?" He asked.   
Taking the reins from Edward, Mary stepped on the mounting block, allowing him to help her mount her mare, the feel of his fingertips as they slid from her tiny waist, skimming over her hips and thighs to her knees made her breath hitch, all thoughts of the handsome Earl of Durham dashed from her mind, her mouth going dry, Edward Seymour's touch creating an unfamiliar ache between her legs. 

She was slightly disappointed when he released his hold on her knee through her gown, kirtle, petticoats and stockings going to mount his stallion. Settling in the saddle he took up the reins, giving the horse a gentle nudge. The stallion started to walk followed by Mary's mare, the two maneuvering side by side. "Do not make a habit of finding yourself alone in the earl's presence, My Lady." Edward warned Mary. 

"But why? The earl is a true and trusted friend." She replied. 

"So he would lead you to believe, Lady Mary. He wishes to take advantage of that trust. Despite a wife up north and a brood of children, if I may be frank, the Earl of Durham, treasonous as it may be, wants you in his bed!" 

Mary's eyes widened in shock at Edward's revelation. It could not be true! "Nay! I do not believe it! How could you..." 

"Because it is the truth. It takes another man to know it. See the earl there? James Lannister?" Edward pointed out a particularly good looking blond in his early middle years. "He had buried three wives in his forty-one years. He would desire a royal one for his fourth and would go to great lengths to achieve his ambition."   
"Lord Lannister?" Mary repeated in disbelief. 

"Aye. That Howard lad there believes that because of his impeccable pedigree he is worthy of a royal bride. That one came out of the present debacle unscathed and with his fortune relatively intact. He is anxious to procreate and create more Howards." Edward explained to Mary as they rode past a particularly handsome young man with dark brown hair and green eyes. 

Mary suppressed a laugh. "Are you always this observant?" She asked him. 

He grinned. "Lord Howard is younger than Lord Lannister, better looking if one prefers brunets to blonds." Edward remarked. "Then there is Lord Mortimer, there, along with those five young pups whose names presently escape me, all sons of peers of the realm and eager to obtain the ultimate prize, the most precious jewel in the kingdom. They will do all that is possible, including abducting your ladyship away if such an act did not reek of treason." Edward indicated a clutch of half a dozen young courtiers, the cream of the English aristocracy all of various shapes, sizes, eye and hair color combinations, the only constant between them being their good looks, all watched covetously as Viscount Beauchamp rode past with Mary. 

"I do not believe it!" Mary replied. 

"Do! It is the truth! That is why His Majesty entrusted your ladyship into my care to keep the wolves of the court at bay. I will keep you safe." He vowed. But who will keep you safe from me? He thought. No one! Mayhap the innocent virgin wished to be ravaged or at least have her intense curiosity satisfied? She was as passionate as her hot-blooded Plantagenet ancestors, he suspected. She would be quite the lioness in bed once her husband schooled her and unlocked her desires. Unfortunately he would not be that man. He regretted marrying when he did. He should have been bold enough to force Anne Boleyn to make good on her word to see Mary married to some varlet. Edward was far from a varlet and would have been more than willing to serve his king by taking his nubile flame haired troublesome child to wife. 

What made matters worse now was his intense attraction for her and even though she may not fully understand it, hers for him. One that, unbeknownst to the king, Henry was adding wood to the fire by insisting that Edward become Mary's chaperone. Who were they to refuse him? 

They rode out of the courtyard through the palace gates along the banks of the Thames, changing course, they rode into a small clutch of oak trees. 

"There are no vagabonds or cutpurses about?" Mary asked scanning about their surroundings with her eyes, concerned. 

"Nay. Mayhap a wild boar but that is doubtful. There is a large oak tree there that the appears to be a perfect place to have a picnic under." It was secluded and private. Edward dismounted his boots landing softly on the grass, letting the stallion lower its head to eat. 

He went to help her down, the close proximity of her sent his heart to racing, a jolt of pure desire surged through him when her hands clasped his broad shoulders, his own grasping her tiny waist, giving a gentle bounce to her out of the sidesaddle, the lady sliding with sinuous slowness down his front, their eyes locking when her feet finally hit the grass, Mary lifting her chin, the air sparking between them with intense sexual tension. 

She swallowed, attempting to moisten her mouth that was suddenly dry as dust, feeling her cheeks flaming, her heart hammering in her chest, her body trembling with anticipation, her gaze never wavering from his. Is this what the poets and bards spoke of in the romantic ancient ballads she had heard whilst at Ludlow? This indescribable feeling that had made her unable to sleep at night? She managed to exhale, her breath a warm caress upon his face, she saw it ruffle a fine hair against one of his temples. Hesitating at first, Mary slid one of her hands over his shoulder to the place where it met his neck, moving her gloved hand against it, her back arching, maneuvering her closer against him, her breasts grazing his chest through the fabric of her riding costume. 

"I swore an oath to His Majesty to protect you..." He whispered, breathily, a second before his mouth crushed against hers in a demanding kiss, unable to resist taking another taste of her sweet lips, releasing her waist, moving his hands up and down her back, one slipping down over one of her hips and lower still, grasping a hold of one of her buttocks through the masses of dress, kirtle and undergarments, shifting her lower body closer against him as his mouth continued its assault on her lips, his tongue tracing the seam of her mouth, gently probing with the pointed tip until she yielded to him, parting her lips to allow him entrance, gasping with desire as he began teaching her a most pleasurable foreign form of kissing. She was sheer utter temptation! He thought as he continued kissing her, feeling her gloved hands caressing the back of his neck, one tangling in the hair at the back of his head, massaging it, a small whimper of desire sounding low in the back of her throat, as she instinctively pressed her body closer against his, eager to get even closer to the source of the exquisite feelings he was affording her, her natural virgin's curiosity getting the better of her once more as she strove to experience more of this new world of passion and desire that this man had introduced her to.   
Better that Edward Seymour teach her, a man that her father trusted implicitly with her welfare and reputation than any other. No one would ever mock her for being so innocent to the ways of women and men as Sir Francis Bryan had ever again! She thought feeling the slow burn of what she was beginning to learn was physical passion and intense need start to consume her. Don Franco would not find his bride to be an ignorant frightened virgin when he took her to his bed.   
Sweet Blessed Christ! She was incredible! Edward thought. All fire, warmth and pure desire! He had to be very careful lest he give into temptation and take what he wanted, especially when one of her curious little hands slid from the back of his neck to the top button of his doublet, unbutton it with nimble fingers, slipping her fingers inside to gently caress about the hollow at the base of his throat. If she pulled on the first closure of his shirt he knew it would be his undoing! This was not the way a man protected a woman's virtue! Especially one such as the Lady Mary! No matter how much he desired and wanted her and yet... Damn it! He could not manage to tear his mouth away from hers especially when she made that sweet whimper of desire in the back of her throat once more, it only fueled his need for her, making him pull her closer intensifying his kisses. 

Snap! The sound of a branch breaking finally forced them apart. 

"Oh God! It was a moment of sheer and utter madness! What you must think. I... Oh, Dear God! I..." Mary babbled, confused and somewhat embarrassed to what had happened between them. Fortunately it had not progressed further than kissing. But those kisses... Did every man kiss like Edward Seymour did? She had been branded over and over once again! "How could I...Lady Beauchamp..." 

"...Is an unfaithful shrew, my lady. For the record I think that you were simply perfect in every way. Madness does not go on for several long delicious minutes. Neither of us pulled away." Edward reassured and reminded her. "Let us break our fast. For some reason I am have become particularly famished." He said. "Why you lay the food, I will take care of the horses." 

Mary smiled, taking the basket, finding a spot beneath the largest of the oak trees, setting the small rug upon the soft grass, taking off her hat, removing the other items, setting them about. The servants had packed two silver plates for Mary and Edward, along with a serving platter, goblets, fine Irish linen and lace napkins and doilies. The entire effect was very pretty, she though plucking some summer flowers that she found nearby, placing them in a tiny narrow vase the kitchen staff had the foresight to slip into the basket. It added an additional touch to the array of food. 

"I had heard that you had learnt to be quite the chatelaine but I never suspected..." Edward remarked. "The touch of a fine woman adds a certain special flair to whatever she touches." 

"Thank you." She felt herself blushing at his compliments. Were his eyes truly moving up and down her body or was she imagining..."How are the horses?" 

"I removed their saddles." He told her, laying them near the rug. "They are presently munching grass." He added, lying beside her on the rug.   
"Shall I serve you, milord?" She asked picking up one of the plates, looking at him expectantly. 

"Yes, please. If you would be so kind." He replied, watching her fill the plate like the great lady she had been bread to be. Edward had known her mother and her aunt, the Late French Queen, whom he had served as a page when a boy, were both known for their hospitality and elegance of their tables. Mary had inherited the traits from both women. 

Mary handed him the plate along with a linen napkin and goblet of wine. The she served herself, pausing to say Grace before they began eating. 

"Don Franco should be arriving at court soon." Edward commented as they ate. 

"What if he is cruel? Not what he appears to be?" Mary asked, concerned. 

"You have me, My Lady. I will whisk you away to Calais if need be no matter the potential consequences." Edward replied.

"You are not serious?" Mary asked. 

"Aren't I?" He shot back taking a bite of apple tart. 

"What your lordship intends would cause a scandal from one end of Christendom to the other. His Majesty would clap us both in the Tower or place us under house arrest in Calais." 

"It would be worth it to see you happy, My Lady. My chief concern and that of Her Majesty the Queen." 

"Mine own Sir Galahad." Mary murmured smiling, tearing a piece of bread, popping it into her mouth. 

"Sir Galahad? He was renowned for his gallantry and purity. I have been told that I possess much of the former but as to the latter..." Edward shrugged, grinning at her, making Mary laugh, he chuckled stopping abruptly when Mary reached up to brush a crumb from one of the corners of his mouth, lowering her eyes modestly, blushing prettily, lifting them to gaze into his. "I am sorry but you had a crumb... Oh!" she cried, her words cut off as his mouth descended upon hers once more in another delicious kiss. He tasted of sweet wine and spices, she thought, and something else, something warm and forbidden that foretold of more delights to be found in his embrace. 

"You are delicious." He stated, smiling when their mouths had parted. 

"Enough for another taste?" She asked kissing him back, unable to resist. What was the matter with her? When had she become so bold and wanton? 

He chuckled, low in his throat, the sound muffled by the pressure of her lips against his. 

The cry of the stallion startled them both, forcing their mouths apart, two pair of eyes traveling to the source of the sound. 

The stallion was sniffing about the white mare, his member engorged, hanging down. Mary had viewed other creatures coupling but nothing like this. Gracious! She watched, utterly fascinated, her eyes wide as saucers, the stallion bit the mare's neck, going up on his back legs preparing to cover her. She heard the mare scream as the stallion pierced the mare's sheath with his great lance. 

"Oh, Dear God!" Mary cried out, burying her face into one of Edward's shoulders, her cheeks burning with embarrassment, the heat traveling down her body settling in her core, making her limbs tingle. 

"What will you do on your wedding night? I thought that you were braver than that. Will you prove me wrong by fainting dead away with embarrassment when your husband shows you his love lance? Will you? Or will you show him the woman that you truly are, the fruit of a union between two great houses? That you have the power within you to ensnare him with a glance, so that he will be craving even the tiniest touch from tip of your little finger?" Edward asked, lifting one of her hands to his mouth, beginning with the pinky finger, he drew each one of her well manicured digits up to his mouth, kissing and drawing each inside to gently suck before releasing it, reaching his palm down to cup her chin, lifting her mouth to his until he claimed it in a searing kiss. "Show me how brave and bold you truly are, my precious Sweetheart..." He said, claiming her lips again. He could not seem to get enough of her luscious sweet mouth, or the rest of her if truth be told. His body was aching for her with an intense lust and desire, one that had been intensified by the nature of the horses' coupling. 

"Is this bold enough, Viscount Beauchamp? Do I have the power to ensnare you?" Mary whispered against his lips, her nimble slender fingers working at the buttons of his doublet, quickly undoing the lot. 

"More that you could ever imagine, Sweet Siren! I am a feared that I may be bewitched by a flame-haired Welsh Witch." He confessed. 

"Has she enchanted you?" She asked. Why did it matter so much that his answer would be yes? What did it matter how potent her female allure was proving to be especially to this man in particular? 

"More than enchanted, Lady Mary, I am in danger of losing my heart." Edward replied with naked honesty. 

At that moment the stallion chose to scream, withdrawing and thrusting inside the mare once more moving about brutally. 

The combination of his words, the timbre of his voice, the continued coupling of the animals finally proved their undoing. 

"You consume me." He whispered huskily against her mouth, taking possession of it once more. His hands seeking beneath her skirts, tossing all caution to the four winds, one of his hands stroking up her shapely calf to her knee, his fingertips dancing higher up, caressing the soft flesh of her inner thigh as his mouth continued to ravage hers. 

She moaned, a low sensual sound in the back of her throat as his mouth and fingertips branded her as his, her slender fingers pulling at the closures of his shirt, undoing each in turn, revealing the skin of his chest beneath, her fingertips tracing along the hard muscles, caressing his nipples, feeling them harden beneath her inquisitive hands as the incredibly curious virgin explored a man's body for the first time, marveling at the reaction a gentle caress against her lover's chest had upon him. 

Edward's fingers moved higher up her inner thigh. God's Blood! She had the smoothest skin, he thought feeling her body instinctively arch toward the source of the exquisite pleasure he was affording her, she was beginning to burn for him, he could feel the heat from the core of her, as his fingers danced higher up her lily white inner thigh, his fingertips grazing the soft red-gold curls that covered her sex, pausing ready to withdraw his hand but the young woman chose that moment to moan again against his mouth, moving her legs apart slightly, arching up against his lean hard body, indicating her desire for him even though she probably had no notion as to what she was playing at. She had been a complete innocent! No more thanks to him. He was unlocking that world of passion, she was proving a most adept pupil, their intense attraction for one another making the experience most exciting for her as he gave her the first tastes of desire with a man that loved her, he admitted to himself. Because he was falling in love with her, God Help him! 

His fingertips gently breached the soft curls, finding her wet and burning, quickly finding her hidden pearl, beginning to stroke it with a forefinger, switching to his thumb as he gently slipped the other digit into her sex, moving it in and out, feeling the walls of her passage tense about it as she began her first ascent.   
Her thighs trembling, Mary felt as though her limbs were melting as his fingers worked against her most intimate place. It was the most wonderful feeling she had ever experienced in her twenty years of living, she was traveling closer and closer to Paradise, climbing higher and higher until she felt her soul being torn from her body, merging with his as she soared, enjoying her first fulfillment. She had barely come back to earth when she was asking for..."More!" She whispered against his swollen lips. 

Edward chuckled at her boldness, smiling smugly, knowing that he would always be the first man to show her Heaven on Earth. Don Franco may take her maidenhead but Edward would always be the one to bring her to Paradise first, taking what he wanted, as he always did.   
____________________________________________________________________________________  
"Lady Mary, I do hope that my husband did not bore you with his talk of politics when he took you riding this morning." Anne, Lady Beauchamp mentioned to Mary later that evening. They were in Queen Jane's Presence Chamber, Anne was scanning about her eyes roving about for Sir Francis Bryan, her present lover. 

"No, Lady Beauchamp. He did not. Quite the contrary, Lord Beauchamp's instructions were rather enjoyable and enlightening. I was not bored at all." Mary replied sweetly, her eyes cast modestly downward as she worked her needle in one of the king's shirts, concentrating upon the Tudor rose she was presently embroidering; it was one of many in a chain along the collar. 

"An Expert Needlewoman, as well as quite the chatelaine, why am I not at all surprised?" The familiar timbre of his voice startled Mary as she felt him come up behind her, making her prick a finger with the needle the last time she had been near him he had stolen a kiss from her in the stable after their most eventful ride that morning. 

"Oh!" She cried out, bringing the finger to her mouth to stay the bleeding. 

"Edward! Look at what you have done. You should not come upon people like that. You have startled the Lady Mary!" Queen Jane exclaimed from her place across the room where she was playing with a new spaniel pup, a gift from the king. "Are you all right, Lady Mary?" 

Mary withdrew her finger from her mouth quickly. "Yes, Your Majesty. It is nothing truly." Mary lied. 

"Not it is not. Let me see?" Edward said, before she could do anything he snatched her hand, from where he stood now on one of the sides of her chair, bringing it up closer to his face to examine it, the physical contact and their close proximity to one another making it difficult to conceal their intense attraction for one another. To make matters worse he had the nerve to close his lips about her injured finger, sucking gently against the tip. "That should help." He told her with a reassuring wink, handing her hand back to her. 

"Yes, My Lord. Thank you." She murmured low, focusing her attention back upon the shirt, trying to ignore him, especially when he braced one of his calves on the arm of her chair. 

"Those are incredibly fine stitches, Lady Mary. Mayhap I should have you make my shirts as well as His Majesty's. Lady Beauchamp is virtually hopeless with a needle." He remarked examining Mary's handiwork from his position above her, if she looked up she knew his face would be level with hers, if she tilted her chin up he could kiss her! 

"Be my guest, Lady Mary. You do sew and embroider so much better than I." Anne said, watching her husband, who had obviously taken quite a shine to the young woman. Good! If he was occupied with the king's daughter it would give Anne more time to pursue her lover. 

"Lady Beauchamp, you truly do not object?" Mary asked. The making of the shirts for her lord was quite intimate why would the viscountess entrust it into Mary's care? She remembered talk of the fuss The Concubine had made when she found out Mary's mother was still making her father's shirts. How she had raged. 

"Of course not, My Lady. I can send him to you on the morrow and you can take His Lordship's measurements. Mayhap before you go riding? Edward tells me that His Majesty commanded him to take you riding again tomorrow. I will be eternally grateful for the kindness." Anne cloaked her asking in feigned sweetness.   
"Is that true?" Mary asked trying her best to retain her composure, he was so close she could see the dark blond hairs on his chin, felt the power of his tall and lean soldier's body. Her heart started pounding in her chest. 

"Yes. Be ready to receive me at eight of the clock on the morrow." He stated. 

"Then it is settled then?" Anne said, her eyes passing from Mary to Edward, awaiting confirmation. 

Mary nodded. "Yes, it is settled." She replied, instinctively grasping Edward's hand for reassurance as Sir Francis Bryan came sauntering in the room wondering why Anne Stanhope preferred that lecher and would take him to her bed. Edward Seymour had never been cold to Mary. Quite the contrary.


	3. The Viscount and the Pearl:  Chapter III

This Viscount and the Pearl: Chapter III 

Oh...  
I feel like I've been locked up tight  
For a century of lonely nights  
Waiting for someone  
To release me  
You're licking your lips and blowing kisses my way  
But that don't mean I'm gonna give it away  
Baby, baby, baby  
(baby, baby, baby)  
Oh whoa...  
My body's saying let's go  
Oh whoa...  
But my heart is saying no (no)  
If you wanna be with me, baby  
There's a price you pay  
I'm a genie in a bottle   
You gotta rub me the right way  
If you wanna be with me  
I can make your wish come true  
You gotta make a big impression  
I gotta like what you do  
I'm a genie in a bottle, baby  
Gotta rub me the right way, honey  
I'm a genie in a bottle, baby  
Come, come, come and let me out  
The music's playing and the lights' down low  
One more dance and then we're good to go  
Waiting for someone  
Who needs me  
Hormones racing at the speed of light  
But that don't mean it's gonna be tonight  
Baby, baby, baby  
(baby, baby, baby)  
Oh whoa...  
My body's saying let's go  
Oh whoa...  
But my heart is saying no (no)

 

If you wanna be with me  
Baby, there's a price you pay  
I'm a genie in a bottle  
You gotta rub me the right way  
If you wanna be with me  
I can make your wish come true  
Come and set me free, baby  
And i'll be with you  
I'm a genie in a bottle, baby  
Gotta rub me the right way, honey  
I'm a genie in a bottle, baby  
Come, come, come and let me out  
I'm a genie in a bottle, baby  
Gotta rub me the right way, honey  
I'm a genie in a bottle, baby  
Come, come, come and let me out  
Oh whoa...  
My body's sayin let's go  
Oh whoa...  
But my heart is saying no (no)  
If you wanna be with me, baby  
There's a price you pay  
I'm a genie in a bottle  
You gotta rub the right way  
If you wanna be with me  
I can make your wish come true  
You gotta make a big impression  
I gotta like what you do  
If you wanna be with me, baby  
There's a price you pay  
I'm a genie in a bottle  
You gotta rub me the right way  
If you wanna be with me  
I can make your wish come true  
Come and set me free, baby  
And I'll be with you  
I'm a genie in a bottle, baby  
Come, come, come and let me out-   
"Genie In a Bottle" Christina Aguilera 

 

"Good Morrow, Lady Mary, it does me good to see you!" The Earl of Durham exclaimed, excusing himself from James Lannister, dashing over to where she stood in a clutch of women milling about the Queen outside the Chapel Royal after Mass the following morning. "If it pleases Your Ladyship I would be honored to escort you about the gardens after we have broken our fast." He offered, a warm smile playing about his mouth. 

"I would be delighted to, Lord Durham..." Mary replied looking up into the earl's startling blue grey eyes. 

"Then it is settled then. I will come to your Presence Chamber at..." Thomas Nicholls began. 

"But Viscount Beauchamp is attending me at eight of the clock this morning. His Majesty has then commanded that His Lordship take me riding once again. Mayhap we can arrange another time, perhaps?" Mary explained to the earl. She saw his lips set with disappointment. She knew that he was none too pleased that Edward Seymour was going to be monopolizing her time once again. 

"Mayhap on the morrow? The same time, after we have broken our fast after Mass?" The earl asked, his eyes hopeful. "I hear that the late summer roses are in bloom. I would so much like to see them if I could prevail upon your ladyship to be gracious enough to show them to me. Afterward, if your ladyship desires, we may practice at the archery butts together." He offered, cocking his handsome head to one side, waiting for her to answer, that same engaging smile playing about his lovely mouth. Please say yes! He prayed. 

"I would be delighted to, My Lord Durham, if Her Majesty the Queen does not require my attendance upon her nor, more importantly, His Majesty the King." Mary replied diplomatically, lowering her eyes modestly, the sweep of her long lashes casting shadows against her pale cheeks, then taking a moment to peer up at him through them, innocently flirtatious. 

Thomas Nicholls felt a jolt of pure desire shoot through him. Did she even understand the potent sexual power that she could command? How a mere look from those lovely blue eyes and the lifting of that lovely mouth into a smile could entice a man to want to commit the grievous of sins? "We will make certain that you may slip away." He replied with a wink and a smile. 

Mary felt the heat steal into her cheeks as she blushed. "Thank you, My Lord. I cannot promise Your Lordship, being a member of Her Majesty's Household, my time is not mine to give." 

"I shall pray that Her Majesty, kind mistress that she is, will give you leave to venture into the garden with such as I. Then be disposed to allow Your Ladyship to shoot arrows, with a gentle warning to have a care lest one pierce my heart." His words were outrageous. He was blatantly flirting with her, his body close. She could smell the exotic Egyptian musk he wore mixed with the faint scent of peppermint. It was a potent combination. 

"My Lord! You are bold! His Majesty, the King, my father is a scant ten feet away! " Mary warned blushing that much redder. 

"Faint heart never won fair lady!" Durham replied, with another smile and wink. "I look forward to our rendezvous, My Sweet Lady." He said, his voice making it sound incredibly wicked. To emphasize his point he grasped her right hand, bringing it up to his mouth to plant a kiss upon it. Was that his tongue she felt sweep across the top of her hand? She asked herself, heat involuntarily stealing up her arm. Her eyes meeting his which were dancing wickedly, a rakish smile playing about his lips, he was blatantly flirting with her, his interest clear and plain. 

She withdrew her hand, relieved when she saw the King her father motion her over to him. "Lord Thomas, if you would please excuse me. His Majesty requires my presence." She explained to the earl. 

"My Lady." Durham said, bowing, his eyes fixed on her retreating back, imaging what was hidden beneath that fetching gown, if her skin was that fine and white all over. 

"Your Majesty." Curtseying, Mary greeted her father. 

"How doth My Precious Jewel? How are you finding Lord Beauchamp? Did you enjoy your outing with His Lordship?" The King asked. 

"Yes, Your Majesty. Lord Beauchamp has been a most agreeable companion..." Mary replied. 

"Good. Is he proving to keep those young pups at bay?" 

"Yes, Father. Lord Beauchamp can be quite intimidating. He growls rather loudly and bares his teeth. I am most grateful for his diligence and commitment to guarding and protecting my virtue. He is a prime example of an English Gentleman." Mary told her father. "He was kind enough to warn me as to which courtiers that I was to be wary of. I trust there to be no trouble because of his protection." 

"As well it should be. Who are these knaves that dare cast their covetous eyes upon you, child? I will banish them from court for their presumption!" 

"Lord Beauchamp growled loud enough scaring most of them away." Mary replied. 

Henry laughed. "Go on now. We hear that he is to attend upon you to take his measurements. Queen Jane says that you are to stitch his shirts. Is the only purpose that Lady Beauchamp is useful for is spewing venom? You will be in his bed soon enough." Henry mumbled the last bit under his breath. He had noted the way that Edward Seymour looked at his daughter. Better a man that Henry trusted... 

"Your Majesty?" Mary asked. 

"No matter. Go meet Lord Beauchamp. Do not keep him waiting." Henry said dismissing his daughter with a kiss on both cheeks.   
_____________________________________________________________________________________

She was sitting upon the window seat reading a book when he entered her apartments, arrogantly dismissing all her servants. "You will not be needed." He stated as they all scurried out leaving Mary and Edward quite alone. 

"I trust that the plot is quite compelling. You did not even look up when I entered the room. I no longer interest you?" He teased, standing over her, casting a shadow on her open book. 

Mary looked up, her eyes meeting his. "Do not look so disappointed, My Lord." 

"If I may prevail upon you to change that." He said grasping for her book. 

"How do you propose that I do?" She asked, holding the book close against her chest. 

He grinned. "Greet me properly with a kiss." 

"Is that wise? We are both well aware of what happens when we kiss. It leads to far much more than kissing." 

"I thought that you enjoyed my company, Sweetheart, and my kisses." 

Placing the book on the window seat, she approached him, placing her fingertips upon his mouth. "Shhhh... Someone may hear you." 

"Then you will have to silence me." Edward remarked as her fingers fell away. 

Mary tilted her face up to his. "How do you propose that I do that?" She asked.

"Kiss me!" He commanded. "I ache for a taste of your sweet lips." 

"Just a taste?" She flirted unable to help herself, lowering her lashes in an alluring feminine gesture that instantly heighted his senses. 

"Careful, Mary. I will devour you." He warned. 

"All of me?" She asked. 

"Aye!" He responded roughly pulling her into his embrace. 

Mary struggled to free herself. "Let me go! What if Lady Rochford of Lady Missledon were to come in and see me in your arms or worse? What then?" 

"No one will come in! I left specific instructions that we are not to be disturbed by anyone." He replied with a smile. "Now kiss me before I go mad!" 

"Mad? We will be having none of that." She replied feeling more secure that no one would find them together, especially Lady Rochford. Worse yet, what would Lady Beauchamp do if she found Mary in Edward's arms, kissing him? Lady Beauchamp had nothing to say since she sought pleasure with Sir Francis Bryan and others. She could not complain that her husband sought pleasure elsewhere. No matter it was still a sin. Mary had sought absolution from the Bishop of Durham, Cuthbert Tunstall for her part. The cleric had been most sympathetic to her plight. She smiled remembering the light penance she had received, wrapping her arms about Edward Seymour's neck, kissing him fiercely, enjoying the feel of his mouth upon hers, the tickle of the hairs on his upper lip against her mouth. "Have I satisfied your ache for a taste?" She asked when their lips had parted. 

"Momentarily. I will have more you. Do you know that I dreamt of you last night? The most vivid erotic dream..." He told her making her blush, bending his head to kiss her neck. 

"What of the measurements?" She asked. Her palms pushing at his chest hearing him laugh through his kisses. 

"What of them? Shall I tell you of my dream?" He teased her, enjoying seeing her flustered. 

"I would rather that you remove your doublet, My Lord." She said, firmly.   
"I have a name. I would prefer that you use it." 

"My apologies, Lord Beauchamp." 

Not my title! My Christian name, I want you to use my Christian name. Call me Edward. In our intimate moments, Ned." 

"Would you please unbutton your doublet, Edward?" Mary asked using his Christian name. 

"Would you please assist me?" Taking her hands in his he brought them up to the line of buttons of his doublet, helping her undo them until it fell open, guiding her hands inside over his fine cambric shirt. "You have ensnared and bewitched me." He whispered hoarsely. "I wish to possess you! I want to strip you naked and kiss you all over! Every inch of that perfect skin, each freckle upon you!" 

"You should not say things like that! Someone could be listening at the door and hear you! No matter that you dismissed the servants." She admonished him. "You should know better than I." 

"The idea pleases you, I see, Sweetheart. Your face and chest are flushed. Shall we find out if you are that lovely shade of pink all over?" He asked letting her help remove the doublet, tossing it on the window seat, focusing his attention back to her. Tracing the neckline of her bodice with his fingertips, making her tremble with pure desire. 

"For a man with your reputation for single-mindedness and efficiency you are so easily distracted, Edward." She teased. 

"My passion for you drives me to distraction." Edward told her, pulling at the closures of his shirt, undoing them quickly, slipping his shirt over his head, tossing it on his doublet. He was now bare from the waist up. 

Mary gasped and stared, unable to take her eyes from him, assessing his lean muscled warrior's body. 

"Does what you see please you? Go ahead and explore to your heart's desire. I will not bite you, you have my word. Unless you wish me to, My Sweet Siren."   
"I am not wary of being bitten." 

"You should be. There are certain parts of you that I will nip that will have you writhing in ecstasy." 

"Where are they?" She was as curious as the cats that were kept about the palace to keep the vermin at bay. 

"I promise to show you." He said. 

Taking up the measuring tape, she unfurled it, wrapping it about his neck. "Will you?" She asked looking into his lovely dark blue eyes as she made him sit.   
"Eager are you not?" He asked grabbing for her. 

Allowing herself to pulled into his lap, Mary relaxed the tape, letting it fall against his skin as he reached up to cup her chin in his palm, turning her face toward his, guiding her hands over his front. Encouraging her to touch him whilst he kissed her with great passion, chuckling with pleasure against her lips when she innocently ground her bum against his groin feeling the tangible evidence of his desire for her. It excited and frightened her at the same time, wondering if he would bite her neck when he finally took her as his stallion had taken her mare the day before. She instinctively knew that he would become her lover in every sense. There was no doubt that their affair would lead to wanton copulation or involve all the intimacies of love making but the ultimate act. What of her marriage?! 

Withdrawing from their embrace she stood, pulling him to his feet, measuring the other portions of his person she needed to. He continued to be wicked, stealing several kisses, nibbling one of her earlobes, finally pinning her against a paneled wall, his mouth seeking hers once more. His hands grasping at her skirts, lifting them up over her shapely calves while his mouth trailed a path over the line of her jaw, down her neck and lower still, his hands moved higher. He knelt before her. His mouth leaving a trail of burning kisses down the front of her bodice. 

"What are you doing?" She asked. Her whole body was burning with need, anticipating what he would do next. 

"Worshipping you!" He replied. "I believe that it is time that you learnt about certain Old Country Practices, Sweetheart." Grasping her naked buttocks he positioned himself, caressing her thighs with the fingertips of his other hand from her knees to the tops of her adorable garters which were in the shape of Tudor roses, caressing her inner thighs with feather light touches. Soon his mouth replaced his fingertips, placing burning kisses upon her lily white skin. His hot breath blowing on the curls that covered her most sacred place before his mouth closed over it. 

"Oh, Ned!" She moaned feeling the sweetness of her first invasion, his tongue flicking against her intimately. It was wonderful! She thought arching herself against him, seeking to get as close as she possibly could without climbing into his skin. What was he doing to her? It was so dreadfully intimate!   
Oh God! She was delicious! He thought enjoying the shell like taste of her. 

"I could not imagine that an Old Country Practice could be so absolutely wonderful. Is it from Wiltshire? She asked innocently stating the county where his family was from. 

Edward laughed. The sound muffled against her sex. "Aye." He replied flicking the tip of his pointed tongue against her little jewel feeling it blossom under his ministrations until she was writhing, clawing at the paneled wall for support, using the other to tangle in his crisp dark blond hair, pushing his head closer against her as the exquisite pleasure she was feeling intensified. Her thighs trembling, her knees buckling, "Ned!" She cried out, feeling herself being pulled down into a vortex of desire and pure naked passion such as she had never experienced in her young life. Her climax, when it came, was intense. Her entire body convulsing with the force of it, Mary biting her lower lip until it bled to stifle her cries as the waves of pleasure washed over her, leaving her weak, barely able to stand.   
He rose, pulling her into his embrace. "How do you feel?"He asked. Kissing her tenderly, his eyes concerned. 

"I would never have imagined that something so wicked could be so wonderful." She told him honestly. 

He laughed. 

"Your tongue..." She began, her voice faltering. Blushing scarlet she buried her face into his chest, the memories making her tremble. 

"What about it?" He prompted, smiling, stroking her hair.

"It is always so pleasurable that way?" She asked, lifting her face to his, her eyes searching his face. 

"We could find out." He answered, his lips lifting in a roguish smile.   
"Not here!" 

"No, not here." He agreed. "But on our ride." 

"You are wicked! Very, very wicked!" She told him. 

"You will have to help me to redeem my wickedness. However, if I do recall, you rather enjoy it when I am very wicked. It gives you much pleasure." He teased. 

"It is sinful!" 

"Deliciously so. Do not tell me that my brave girl is turning coward? Where is the strong woman who endured so much hardship and survived?" 

"My cousin, Margaret Douglas and Lord Thomas Howard were clapped in the Tower for their reckless affair and remain there! Do you wish the same fate for us? What does our future hold?" 

"Do not fret, Sweetheart! Lord Thomas Howard is a handsome but young man not known for discretion nor, with all due respect, is Lady Margaret Douglas. I am far too clever to ensure His Majesty's wrath. My loyalty and devotion to the King extends to the welfare of his eldest daughter, whose care and protection he has entrusted to me knowing I will do all in my power to unfailingly labor to be certain of her continued happiness. To give her that which she most desires." He explained not wishing to venture to what their future held. Ideally, he would seek an annulment from his marriage to Anne, marry Mary, who would give him a brood of healthy sons, He would be elevated to a Royal Dukedom Clarence or Gloucester, perhaps? But he dare not voice those ambitions aloud. She would go to Don Franco's bed and he would be left nursing a broken heart. Mary was not the sort of women who would cuckold her husband. She was loyal and loving. He felt slightly guilty drawing her into this passionate love affair, just slightly. This may be his only chance at love not matter how clandestine it was. He would be certain that no harm came to her but he would take what he wanted. He would have her. She would be his! 

"Will you give me that which I most desire?" 

"If it is in my power to give it. Yes! What do you desire?" 

"You!" She said. "God Help Me!" 

Edward could not help smiling broadly incredibly pleased. "Who am I to deny a lady her heart's desire? Come now, it grows late. We should be outdoors enjoying the day. I will leave you to change and meet you in the courtyard? Until then, My Sweet Lady." With that, grabbing his shirt and doublet, stealing a quick kiss from her lips, he was gone.   
_______________________________________________________________________________  
He spotted her in her dark blue riding costume, this one's bodice cut a bit lower as the court fashions dictated. Her lovely breasts swelling over the top. Edward did not care for the appreciative looks and leers the courtiers gave her as she passed them as she sought him out. 

"I can take you riding, My Lady. It will be a much more enjoyable experience that the one you have with cold Viscount Beauchamp. You need a man with hot blood running through his veins, not ice!" James Lannister said boldly, stepping into her path, blocking her way. 

"Lord Lannister, your offer is kind. His Majesty commands that I ride out with the viscount, so ride I must. I am His Majesty's Most Humble Servant. His to command in all things." Mary replied. 

"Pity. Another time then? I would have been certain that our ride would have been most pleasurable." He told her his eyes fixed upon her bosom. Licking his lips, the eyes traveled down her body. "I do have quite a store of experience."

"I am an expert horsewoman, Lord Lannister." Mary told him. 

"Are you now?" He asked, his eyes glittering with lust. He wanted this lovely young filly in his bed, to take great pleasure in breaking her in, showing her the delights that could be found in the Marriage Bed. No matter that his son and heir was four years the lady's senior and the earl, himself, twice her age. 

"Yes, My Lord. Now if you will please excuse me, it would be rude of me to continue keeping Viscount Beauchamp waiting. 

"What must I do to persuade you to go riding on, erm, with me?" James Lannister asked. 

"Your interest is flattering but my riding companion has been chosen. Good Day to you." Mary told the earl walking past him almost right into Edward. 

"Did Lord Lannister say anything to disturb you, Swee...Your Ladyship?" Edward asked, catching himself at the last moment. The man was smitten   
"He tried to persuade me to go riding with him. I refused. He has a handsome visage to recommend him but he has buried three wives, is more than twice my age and then there are the rumours..." Mary shuddered with revulsion. Lord Lannister was rumoured to engage in some unnatural practices.

"What is it?" 

"I should not be casting aspersions on Lord Lannister's name but one hears things regarding he and ladies of the court, Druids and certain debaucheries."   
"You should not be listening to such tales!" 

"Lady Rochford, Lady Beauchamp and Lady Missledon are quick to gossip in the Queen's Chambers. It is difficult not to hear it." 

"Do not place much stock in what knowledge that trio of scandalmongers impart! Well, with the exception of those rumors, I do not care how he leers at and watches you as he is doing now! The lecher!" Edward said, glaring at Lord Lannister, placing a proprietary hand on Mary's lower back as he guided her to the riding block. The dark blond haired nobleman appeared as though he was contemplating his next meal and wished Mary to be the main course! 

"I would be wary of him. More so than before, the man is dangerous. He should be banished from court for his presumption. How he conducts himself is not in the manner of a gentleman. Earl or not!" Edward said, helping Mary mount her mare, his hands running up her legs from calves to thighs, through the fabric of her gown leaving a scorching path along her skin in the places his hands had touched through the layers of fabric. 

Mary held her breath, she could not seem to breathe. She could feel the heat stealing up her chest over her face as she blushed prettily, looking down at him, their eyes locking, neither one of them capable of tearing their gazes away. She saw the raw hunger for her in his dark navy eyes. It sent a thrill through her, dancing up her spine. "Mayhap Lord Lannister could acquire those manners which he lacks from Your Lordship? Unless he is to the point where he is beyond redemption? Viscount Beauchamp you are the epitome of what an English gentleman must and should be." 

Edward inclined his head graciously. "Lady Mary." He said with a smile, mounting his own horse. 

She was proving to be his undoing. He lost his good sense whilst in her presence, acting rash and reckless in her chamber. He did not regret it but he knew that he'd best have a care. The court was rife with gossip. Some people would think the worst. Their words and innuendos could destroy Mary's reputation. She had to be above reproach. What they had done, if it got out, could ruin her chances of a good marriage. Fortunately his reputation as being cold, aloof and serious could work in his favor. No one would ever suspect that such as he could have passion for a woman. 

Edward knew that the king was anxious that the marriage with Don Franco went through. The Hapsburg Bastard would bring a fleet of trade ships with access to North Africa, and as far away as Cathay and the New World. England would be getting footholds in the Americas which was viable to the country's prosperity. There were resources to be had. Didn't mean that he could not enjoy some of her affections but he had best be certain that he left her chaste with an unsullied reputation as difficult as it proved to be. He wanted her! He thought as they rode out of the courtyard. Badly! She was difficult to resist even though he knew better of it. He could not seem to help himself. 

"I thought we would do some exploring today. There is a hunting lodge that King Edward IV used that I wish to find. I hear it is a beautiful spot to have a picnic."   
"Is that what my great grandsire used it for?" 

Edward laughed. "My Lady, you tend to be far too curious for your own good. Such as what His Late Majesty, Edward the Fourth of that name, used the lodge for is not for a lady's ears.

More than hunting one would imagine?" She probed. 

"I cannot say." He was not going to tell her. 

"Cannot or will not, Viscount Beauchamp?" She probed a bit further.

"Some matter are best not spoken of, Lady Mary. Especially to high born well bred virgins."   
"My status as much does not appear to impede your desires to introduce me to certain intimacies between men and women, Edward." 

"Upon contemplation I have realized that I behaved rash and recklessly. You will prove to be my undoing. I cannot manage to refrain from touching and kissing you. You are a wickedly delicious temptation that I cannot resist. "He confessed. 

"Mayhap, then we should put a proper distance between us to avoid the Near Occasion to Sin?" She asked. 

He shook his head. "You cannot hide yourself from me that easily. You know that I would find and come to you." He told her. 

"Would you?" She asked. 

"You know that I would. You could take a ship to Cathay and I would follow you there. You could go back to Hunsdon and I would come to you." He explained. "I would search the ends of the earth to find you if you ever tried to flee from me." 

Mary felt her heart begin to pound in her chest; she knew that he was serious. Edward Seymour was not a man to form a pretty phrase to get a woman into bed as his brother Thomas was wont to do. This man had a reputation for being serious, aloof and cold. She had obviously touched something very deep inside him.   
They rode for a time in a companionable silence enjoying the feel of the sun on their faces and the slight breeze that waft through the trees as they rode along until they came upon what appeared to be the hunting lodge tucked down in a small valley beneath a copse of large ancient oak trees. It was quite a bit larger than Mary had anticipated. Obviously it had been created as a place where her great-grandsire could enjoy a romantic interlude of several weeks with one of his light-o- loves.   
The hunting lodge was a replica of Windsor Castle, one of Edward IV's favorite residents. Scaled down, of course, made of the same stone taken from the same quarry as the original castle, it had a small courtyard, a place where riders could tether their horses. There also appeared to be a small stabling area that appeared to be deserted at the moment, even though it appeared that the lodge had been used in the not too distant past. Perhaps by His Majesty King Henry? 

"Oh, it is lovely!" Mary exclaimed, looking about taking it all in. "Look over there, the tower is the same as the one at castle down to the same pattern upon the stone! It must have taken the craftsmen an age to duplicate it! How clever it is!" 

"Shall we dismount and venture inside?" Edward asked, reining in his horse. He could not but help but grin watching her reactions to all of it as she looked about. Her eyes wide with wonder and delight at the obvious attention to even the smallest details. This was just the outer structure of the lodge itself. Edward was anticipating how she would react when she entered the lodge. 

"There are no vagabonds or gypsies about?" Mary asked, looking at him concerned. 

"Nay, Sweetheart. They daren't venture in the Royal Park. There are severe consequences if any are caught trespassing." Edward explained. "We very much alone here, just us two, the deer, a fox or two, mayhap a boar, the various woodland creatures and birds." 

"I trust that you can defend my honor against that score of creatures." Mary quipped. 

Edward pursed his lips, his blue eyes glittering with mirth. "I would be wary about the foxes. Wily creatures they are, sneaky. .. They may seek to cast aspersions against Your Ladyship's good name. It will be my pleasure to defend your honor if the need arises." He told her, dismounting. Tethering his horse, then walking over to Mary and her mount. 

Mary giggled. "Thank you, Viscount Beauchamp." She said, holding out her arms to grasp his shoulders. 

Taking a step forward, he closed the gap between them so her front slid down his as she came down from the horse, her lush form moving down his hard one with agonizing slowness, her hips fitting perfectly against his muscular thighs like pieces of a puzzle as her booted feet hit the ground, looking up into his handsome face, her heart beating a wild tattoo in her chest, heat stealing into her face staining her cheeks a pretty pink. 

"You are most welcome, My Lady." He responded. Their faces inches from one another, the two of them staring into each other eyes, the sexual tension crackling and sparking between them. Edward's tongue slipping out from between his teeth to moisten his lower lip. 

"What would I do without you to keep me safe, Edward?" Mary asked, she could feel his hot breath fanning against her face, standing up on her tip toes she wrapped her arms about his neck. "Such dedication and unfailing loyalty should be rewarded." She whispered, leaning up a scant inch more, her mouth meeting his.   
He groaned a low feral sound in the back of his throat as he responded to the kiss, pulling her and the horse along as his lips continued to devour hers toward the post beside his own mount, pausing for a brief moment to securely tether her horse. That task completed, he picked her up in his arms, carrying her toward the entrance of the lodge, reaching down to open the door with a hand, nudging it open with his shoulder. "Reward me then." He told her, carrying her over the thresh hold of the lodge, shutting the door behind them, his eyes fixated on the staircase that stretched up before them across the entrance hall, looking down at her waiting for her consent to take that first step. 

Looking up into his face, swallowing nervously, she nodded.


	4. Chapter IV

The Viscount and the Pearl: Chapter IV 

Are those your eyes  
Is that your smile  
I've been looking at you forever  
yet I never saw you before  
Are these your hands holding mine  
Now I wonder how I could have been so blind  
And for the first time I am looking in your eyes  
For the first time I'm seeing who you are  
I can't believe how much I see  
when you're looking back at me  
now I understand what love is, love is  
for the first time  
Can this be real  
Can this be true  
Am I the person I was this morning  
and are you the same you  
It's all so strange  
How can it be  
All along this love was right in front of me  
And for the first time I am looking in your eyes  
For the first time I'm seeing who you are  
I can't believe how much I see  
when you're looking back at me  
now I understand what love is, love is  
for the first time  
Such a long time ago I had given up  
on finding this emotion ever again  
But you're here with me now  
Yes I found you somehow  
and I've never been so sure  
And for the first time I am looking in your eyes  
For the first time I'm seeing who you are  
Can't believe how much I see  
when you're looking back at me  
Now I understand what love is, love is  
for the first time  
For the first time-  
"For the First Time" Rod Stewart

 

"Are you absolutely certain?" He asked her, taking that first step across the Entrance Hall, giving her that opportunity to reconsider if she wished. 

"Yes!" She replied. Her gaze never wavering from his, her affirmation firm and resolute. "I will. I will reward you. Give you that which you desire." She told him whilst he carried her to the staircase. 

"One last time to reconsider, Sweetheart." He warned her reaching the first step. There would be no looking back once he started up the stairs. 

"Take me! Take me up the stairs!" She commanded. 

"As you wish!" He replied with a grin. Pausing in his ascent to plant a kiss on her forehead, the tip of her nose then her luscious mouth. 

Mary tilted her chin up, kissing him back, her fingertips caressing the curve of his jaw, one of his cheeks. 

"Was that my reward?" He asked when their mouths had parted, knowing clearly that it was not. 

"One of several..." She told him, breathily. 

They were almost there, upon the second floor landing, three more steps then they were there. Wide corridors stretching out before them. Edward turned to the left walking down the carved oak paneled corridor passing a closed door, pausing at the second, further down, that stood ajar. Peering inside, they could see a large four poster bed past the small Presence Chamber. 

Edward carried Mary inside. The two of them gasping in admiration at the heraldic devices, White York roses and Suns in Splendor, Edward IV's device, that were carved upon the paneling, painted and guilded. The four tapestries were a series depicting scenes of love and seduction from the pages of the Old Testament, Greek and Roman Mythology and Arthurian Legend. King David watching Bathsheba bathing, Aphrodite and Ares, Jupiter seducing Leda and Queen Guinevere and Sir Lancelot. 

The bed was made, all of the bed clothes and hangings in shades of red, the color of love and sexual passion. Anticipating the arrival of the king and queen?   
He carried her to the bed, gently depositing her upon it. Coming to lay beside her. The two of them staring at one another, as they removed their hats and gloves tossing them upon a side table that was near the bed, Edward easing Mary into his embrace, lifting her chin with his fingers. "Tell me..." He prompted her, allowing her to be certain. 

Her heart was pounding in her chest with anticipation. "No one will ever know?" She wanted reassurance. 

"Not anyone. No one will ever suspect to even consider such intimacies ever occurred between us. I promise that no one will ever question your virtue or reputation."   
"Such gallant words, Edward. You seem so confident and assured." 

"Because I care very deeply for you, I will do all that is possible to see that you are not hurt and no taint of scandal touches you." He explained, brushing a lock of hair from one of her temples, marveling in its softness, how it curled about his fingers. How the thick mass of waves would feel caressing his naked chest, brushing against his nipples, his belly. How she would arouse him in her innocence seeking knowledge of what occurred between women and men. She was proving to be an adept pupil, a woman made to pleasure a man. 

"Who will see to your reputation?" She asked, her eyes searching his. 

"I am seen as cold, serious and aloof. No one will suspect." He replied. "Do not fret about me. Your concern touches my heart." 

"What other parts of me touch you?" Reaching up, fingertips of one of her hands caressed one of his cheeks, the index finger the seam of his lips which were warm to her touch. 

"Every precious inch of your person, your mind and your very soul; I want to possess the very essence of your being." 

"Begin with my body. You desire me?" 

"You know that I do, more than anything." 

"Do you not always take what you want?" She challenged him. 

"Where have you heard that?" He asked. 

"Is it not common knowledge? Take what you want, what you desire." She told him, her eyes trying to read what emotions and feelings were contained behind that deep blue gaze of his that seemed to burn with an unquenchable fire whenever he feasted his eyes upon her even though he did his best to hide it within the precepts of the court. Here, alone with her, he could allow his passions free rein, but to what extent she was not certain. She had viewed naked lust in Lord Lannister's eyes when he looked at her, passion and want in the Earl of Durham's eyes. Viscount Beauchamp's held all those emotions and something much more, tenderness, affection... love? 

"You need to be cherished and adored." 

"And desired and wanted by you, Edward." 

"Ah, My Love, My Darling, My Sweetheart." He said pulling her into his arms. Kissing her tenderly, his mouth brushing against hers again and again and again.   
Mary moaned against his mouth, low, sensual and inviting. Her mouth opening under his allowing his tongue inside to fence with hers, her hands clutching at his shoulders, sliding down to frantically unbutton his doublet, her hands seeking his fine cambric shirt beneath whilst they continued to kissing passionately, enjoying and exploring the taste and feel of one another's mouths, lips, teeth and tongues. 

Mary pulled on the silk cords of the neck and breast closures of Edward's shirt undoing them, revealing an expanse of finely muscled chest. The curious young virgin that she was, reaching inside to touch him, tentatively at first then more boldly upon hearing him gasp with want against her lips. 

"Yes, My Angel, touch me! I like the feel of your fingers against my skin, so gentle and soft. Each caress sparks a fire in my blood." He whispered hoarsely against her mouth. 

"What if I replaced my fingertips with kisses?" She innocently asked. "What would happen to the sparks then?" 

"I would reckon you would soon find yourself upon your back, naked as the day you came into the world." He said honestly. 

"Is that a promise?" She flirted. "I quite have a mind to find out." 

Edward laughed. "Do you now? Does it please you to ponder being in such a state before my eyes?" 

Mary blushed, shivers of desire mingled with anticipation dashing up her spine. The thought was deliciously wicked. "Like Venus emerging from the sea..." 

"In a manner of speaking but you won't be wet from the ocean..." Oh, Lord! Did I just say that? He asked himself. 

"Will I be wet at all?" She asked looking up at him through lowered lashes. 

Edward licked his lips, grinning wickedly. "I may have to investigate that, Sweetheart." God! Did she know what she was doing to him? What she was saying? He wanted her so very badly, he ached for her! 

"In what way?" She asked. 

"By removing your garments, garters and stockings and kissing every inch of you. Everywhere!" He added, his meaning all too clear. 

Mary swallowed, moistening her suddenly dry lips with the tip of her tongue, her breathing suddenly ragged, feeling the heat stealing into her most intimate place where he had given her such exquisite pleasure earlier that morning. It was so wickedly intimate but she wanted to experience it once more. "Show me." She stated.

"Curious, aren't you?" He teased. "So very curious. Your wish is my command, My Love." 

"What of your doublet and shirt?" 

"Remove them!" 

He was quite obliging, helping her take his doublet and shirt off, tossing them on a chair positioned close to the bed. They landed one on top of the other in a heap.   
For the second time that day she had the opportunity to admire his body, naked from the waist up. The second time was as arousing as the first, if not more so, for now she knew how he reacted when she caressed him, kissed and nipped at the freckles that scattered his chest and abdomen. Reaching out a hand, she allowed her fingertips to dance over his skin that seemed to shiver with desire beneath her touch. 

Edward watched her allowing her free rein to explore him, the feel of the soft pads of her fingers against his skin making the organ between his legs swell. Soon her lips replaced her fingers, Mary planting kisses along the paths that her fingers had traced before, slipping her tongue out from between her teeth to lick at him as a kitten, teasing his flesh with the pointed tip, then kissing a path over his taut muscles, inhaling the sandalwood fragrance that gently lingered against his skin.   
"Does this please you, Ned?" She asked between her kisses, nipping at his belly playfully, looking up into his dilated blues eyes, the shadow of passion and lust that had descended upon his handsome face. Assessing her as a ravenous wolf would a Spring lamb. 

Like the wolf he waited for the right moment to snatch his prey. Grasping her, rolling her onto her back, his long slender fingers working upon the closures of the low cut bodice of the jacket of her riding costume, yanking it off her, his fingers unlacing her bodice next, then her sleeveless chemise, pausing for a moment to admire her breasts, swirling caresses about them, down her slender torso. "Sweet Jesu! You are so beautiful!" He exclaimed looking down at her. "I must see all of you, Sweetheart!" He added his fingers working quickly at her skirts, all of the clothes being tossed upon his doublet and shirt into the chair as they were removed one by one until she was just left in her garters and stockings. 

She could feel her skin flushing as he gazed upon her naked form, watching him take an inventory of her person from the top her head to her stocking clad toes, attempting to hide the upper portion of her person with her mass of red-gold curls in her embarrassment. 

"Don't. You are absolutely lovely. Do not be shamed. The Good Lord in his Mercy created you in such a fashion to be admired and adored by men, Mary. Do not hide yourself. 'Tis a sin against that Who fashioned you. You are perfection! Let me look upon you!" Edward told her gently. 

Mary moved her hair away from her breasts, uncovering them to her lover's hungry gaze. 

Closing her eyes, feeling his mouth close over her right breast, flicking his tongue against the taut nipple, sucking gently. 

Moaning, she arched her back up, seeking to get closer to the source of exquisite pleasure. "Oh, Ned!" She crooned, feeling the fingers of one of his hands caress her left breast, tracing patterns over the smooth skin making her tremble with desire and want. Opening her eyes to stare into his handsome face, his eyes looking down at her with such tenderness and love, it made her heart swell with joy, bending his head, he kissed her breastbone trailing a path of burning kisses to her other breast the fingers of that hand sliding down her side to her tiny waist over her rounded hip. 

His lips reining kisses over the swell of her breast, closing over the nipple making her moan once more, biting her lower lip. "Oh, oh! Ned... Ned...!" She cried, encouraging him, feeling his tongue swirl about her hardened nipple. She had been nervous and uncertain at first, keep her arms and hands cast at her sides, now she became bolder, tentative at first, brushing her fingers over her lover's broad shoulders down his muscular back. 

"Give over to the pleasure, Angel. That's it! Touch me... Caress me... Explore..." He encouraged her, his mouth moving over her breast to her breastbone once again, pressing gentle kisses against her soft fragrant skin, beginning his descent southward trailing kisses over her abdomen nipping at some of the freckles he found with his teeth, moving that much further downward, nuzzling the indentations of her tiny waist, kissing and nibbling her skin, seeming to brand various portions of her body as his, as he had when he had kissed her that first time, claiming her mouth. 

His lips moved from her waist, kissing a hip bone, along her flat and taut stomach, the hairs on his upper lip grazing and tickling her sensitive skin making her giggle. "Oh!" She squeaked. "Ooooh, Ned!" She cried out feeling his teeth nip her navel, plunging the tip of his pointed tongue inside, darting it in and out quickly like a hummingbird making her stomach flutter, her thighs spreading apart slightly to accommodate him as he continued to slip down the bed, anticipating his intent. The mere thought made her burn. She knew it was wrong but she wanted to feel his mouth on her once more giving her that melting pleasure. 

Edward paused for a moment, pulling back to look at her, her skin warm to his touch flushed a pretty pink, her eyes glazed with desire. 

"Please! Please do not stop! Ned, come pleasure me!" She crooned, crooking an index finger beckoning him back to her. 

He grinned broadly, showing his dimples. "When did you become so brazen?" He chuckled. "Wicked Tudor Wench! I find that I cannot resist you! I have fallen completely under your spell." He told her, bending his head to kiss the tender skin beneath her navel. 

She gasped. He was so close. She felt his hot breath against the tangle of golden curls covering her mont, then against her wet sex. 

"Is this what you crave, My Sweetheart? I promise I will pleasure you. Better yet, I will take you to Paradise." 

"Oh, Ned!" She cried out, feeling his tongue touch her hidden jewel. Her head tossing back against the cut lace covered pillows, moaning, a deep sensual sound coming forth from the back of her throat sounding like the growl of a lioness, the growl of the golden lioness that she was. Giving over to the exquisite pleasure that he was affording her, with swift sure strokes making her chest heave, her breath coming in short and hot pants. 

He was more aggressive this time. They were completely alone so he felt he could give free reign to his passions. Which he did, nudging her milky white thighs onto his shoulders, nipping her gently with his teeth, sending shards of fire through her body. 

Her ragged breathing swiftly turning into words of encouragement and mews and moans of pleasure. She felt as though she was burning. Her body on fire while his wonderful mouth did the most wickedly sensuous things to her all which she knew were Mortal Sins. This was lust and pure naked desire. She would probably burn in hell for engaging in such lascivious behavior and for breaking God's Seventh Commandment. She was ashamed to admit it but she would willingly face hellfire in exchange for the time she was spending with this man in his intimate embrace. Especially when he was doing the things to her like he was doing now, slipping two digits inside her tight sheath. The walls of her passage clenching against them like a vice as her moved them in and out. 

Clutching the bed clothes with one hand, the other tangled into his hair. Pushing his face closer to her, pressing her buttocks into the mattress, undulating her hips against him. 

"Scream your pleasure, Sweetheart! You are safe. Be as loud as you wish." He said, taking a moment to encourage her, flattening his other hand against her lower belly, holding her fast, staying her movements pulling her that much closer, increasing the pressure against her ever so gently.

It was enough. Soon she was screaming his name over and over as she experienced an intense climax. Crying out her pleasure in the silent room as wave after wave of the most intense desire washed over her, her breath coming in short ragged pants as she strove to calm herself a sheen of sweat covering her flushed and overly sensitive body. 

He came up to her, covering her body with his, plunging his tongue in her mouth, the leather of one of his boot clad legs pressing against her still throbbing sex, pushing against her, stimulating her wet and burning flesh. 

"Please! Ned, no!" Her pleas went unbidden, devoured by his mouth as she quickly exploded in a second climax brought on by his ravaging mouth and the stimulation of his booted leg against her. Mary clawing her nails down her lover's back wrapping her legs instinctively about his hips as her world shattered behind her eyes in a rainbow of stars, her soul feeling as though it was being torn from her body to merge with his. 

He did not stop in his sweet assault on her person, moving off her briefly, turning her over onto her stomach, brushing her curtain of red-gold curls away from her neck and off her back. Nuzzling an earlobe, nibbling it with his teeth. "Are you satisfied yet, My Love?" He whispered in her ear, tonguing the tender spot beneath it, trailing a path of burning kisses down her neck over the slope to her spine, his mouth continuing his exquisite torture, his lips teasing down the long line of her back to the slopes of her rounded buttocks, licking and nipping at one with his teeth whilst one of his hands caresses the other with light strokes of his fingertips. "How does this make you feel, Sweet Siren?" He murmured against the firm, smooth flesh of her backside, she felt the fingertips of his hand gently trace the line of her bum from her lower back down over the swells to brush against her sex, then back again. Mary squirmed on the bed, wiggling her hips, seductively. Trying to escape his inquisitive hand whose movements she found incredibly arousing, she was on fire for him once again, she could feel her body physically reacting to his touch. She could not seem to get away from it. Pressing her hips into mattress, moaning against the pillow, stifling the sound, biting her lower lip, feeling his fingertips caress the smooth skin of her inner thighs, his lips still kissing and nipping at her buttocks. "You must know that I desire you with all my heart." He whispered against her heated flesh. "That I wish to take all that you have to give but I will preserve your honor and maidenhead for Don Franco, though it greatly pains me. As God is my witness, I adore and am completely enamored of every inch of your delectable person!" He declared, planting kisses from her buttocks up to the small spot at the base of her spine, nipping at and nuzzling her skin.   
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
"Would you care for some more apple tart?" Mary asked looking down into her lover's face from where he lay with his head in her lap dressed in his shirt, slops hose and boots. The doublet folded neatly on one of the corners of the blanket. They were seated outside upon the lush green lawn of the hunting lodge underneath an oak tree enjoying the food that Mary had brought, a book lay open beside them. 

Edward sighed. "You know what I would truly care for?" He asked with a roguish grin, raising a brow at her. 

"What would that be?" She asked. 

"To carry you back inside once more and..." He began. 

"And..." She prompted. 

"Ravish you!" He replied, with a wink. "Quite a convenient way to settle our meal, do you not think so?" 

"You are impossible. You have taken complete leave of your senses! Reading is another way to settle a meal. Now where was I in the tale I was reading?" Mary asked, reaching for the book. 

"You were at a portion of the story where the boy was rubbing the enchanted lamp and the dijinn was about to come forth..." Edward offered, sitting up, leaning in close to her, taking a moment to skim his fingertips down a shoulder and over the tops of her bosom, causing her to look up from the book, lowering it down, giving him an opportunity to steal a kiss. "Would that I were your dijinn." He murmured, pulling away from her, settling himself back upon the blanket beside her. 

"What would you do?" She asked, looking over at him. 

"Steal into your bed chamber at night undetected, materialize from nowhere. Spend the night weaving deliciously sensual magic about you." He explained. 

"Would you come to me at night like a dijinn? What Aladdin in the tale calls the genie, would you? Even with the horrible risk involved?" She wanted to know.   
"If you desire me to I will come to you secretly in the darkness." 

"Would you be my slave then, at my every request submit yourself to me in mind, body and soul to do as I please, when I please, be prepared to do whatever I command as the genie is in the tale of Aladdin?" She said, her lips curving upwards into a smile, crooking a finger at him. "Clever man that you are, you will find a way, will you not? I have heard that lionesses hunt in the dark of night. What of wolves?" She asked, bending down to trace her fingers against the opening of his shirt, over his chest, teasing and enticing him. 

"I will materialize in your bedchamber under cover of darkness to be slave to that which you desire and want." He promised. 

Mary blushed. "Will you?" She asked. 

He grasped for her hand, bringing it up to his mouth, kissing each fingertip in turn. "Anything you wish." He stated.   
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
Later that afternoon, Mary sat with a clutch of the Queen's ladies sewing out in the garden. 

"How can you bear it?" Lady Rochford pointedly asked Mary. "It must be an earthly Purgatory. If I was commanded to spend time with Viscount Beauchamp I would most certainly feign illness to avoid it." 

"Pity His Majesty did not entrust your care to Sir Thomas in Viscount Beauchamp's stead." Anne Bassett said. 

"A rake and a rogue!" Jane Ashley sighed dreamily. 

"Yes, Please!" Anne Bassett rejoined. The women laughed. 

"To be in your position defending your virtue against such charm if it were so. How could you endure it? I would succumb at the utterance of the first or second honeyed phrase that poured forth from those lovely lips. How can you stand to spend an hour, let alone several, with a man so cold and serious?" Mary Arundell teased. 

"As Her Majesty's brother, Viscount Beauchamp is the most important Gentleman of His Majesty's Privy Chamber. He enjoys great influence with the King's Grace, my father. "Mary explained, trying her best not to blush when the Viscount's name was mentioned. She could still feel the brand of his parting kiss on her mouth taken secretly behind a large oak tree before he sent her off to join the Queen's household in the garden. 

"No matter! He appears so haughty and reserved." Anne Bassett said. 

"Viscount Beauchamp may be seen as haughty and reserved. However he does have other aspects of his person to recommend him. He is quite learned. He went to Oxford. His Majesty did appoint him to be His Grace the Duke of Richmond and Somerset's Master of the Horse when His Lordship was only nineteen. He also served as a soldier in France when he was but seventeen." Mary told the women. 

"Leave it to Her Ladyship to find the man's more endearing qualities. Which would appear to be intelligence, an eye for horseflesh and a streak of bravery? What woman does not enjoy the look of a soldier? How many of us have swooned when the gentlemen practice their fencing and archery?" Jane Ashley defended Mary. 

"Or sailor for that matter! Think of them stripped to the waist on some sun drenched deck out on the ocean. Besting marauding pirates! Or better yet, being the marauding pirates, themselves!" Lady Misseldon exclaimed coming over to join the group. "Which do you prefer, Lady Mary, bearing in mind that your chivalrous protector is a soldier but you will soon be going to an expert mariner's bed as his bride? Or would you prefer a rakish English pirate? Like Thomas Seymour is rumored to be?" 

All eyes turned to her, waiting for her answer. "I...I honestly do not know." She replied, wary of letting the true nature of her preference be revealed. She was still a bit uncertain. For now.


	5. Chapter V

The Viscount and the Pearl: Chapter V 

You ask how much I need you  
Must I explain  
I need you oh my darling  
Like roses need rain

You ask how long I'll love you  
I'll tell you true  
Until the twelfth of never I'll still be loving you

Hold me close  
Never let me go  
Hold me close  
Melt my heart like April snow

I'll love you 'til the bluebells forget to bloom  
I'll love you 'til the clover has lost its perfume  
I'll love you 'til the poets run out of rhyme

Oh, until the twelfth of never  
And that's a long long time  
Until the twelfth of never  
And that's a long long time-   
'Twelf of Never' as sung by Johnny Mathis 

 

"Viscount Beauchamp engages in whatever he must, whenever he must to ensure that his ambitions come to fruition in the last amount of time. He is impatient. He does not care to wait. If there is an inkling that His Majesty will bestow another honor upon His Lordship just for acting as his eldest child's duenna, then so be it. As long as he receives a reward for his service to his king and country. The man has no heart. Or if he does have a heart it is made of ice." Lord Durham warned Mary as they moved together in the intricacies of the country dance, his palm touching against hers. 

"Is it not the duty of every man and woman to seek to advance their family?" Mary asked, looking to where Edward stood on the sidelines amidst a group of Privy Councilors watching and observing all that went on about him. 

"Yes. But not in the cold, hearted mercenary way that Viscount Beauchamp is known to venture to achieve that which he most desires. He is grasping!" Durham complained. 

"Viscount Beauchamp's loyalty to His Majesty the King, my father is unquestionable. That that loyalty extends as much as His Lordship considers the welfare and safety of His Majesty's offspring a part of that loyalty is a credit to His Lordship's good character no matter what other's opinions may be." Mary told the handsome earl as he took her other hand in his in the movements of the dance.

Thomas Nicholls was a skilled and elegant dancer. His physical closeness made Mary all too aware of his refined virility. Centuries of careful breeding from back to the time of the First William had created the best of what an English nobleman was and should be: sophisticated, aristocratic and tasteful in the body of a tall, straight and slender man who carried himself with great self assurance. His incredibly handsome face an added asset. Thomas Nicholls was well aware of his place in the world and what he was entitled to because God had chosen to put him there the fact that he was also the king's cousin via their shared ancestress, Elizabeth Woodville was an added asset. He was given that which was his right; he most certainly did not vulgarly take what he wanted as many of the New Men in His Majesty's court were wont to do. Thomas did not care for the possessive way Edward Seymour was looking at the Princess Mary (she would always be a princess to Thomas, no matter what title her father, the King bestowed upon her). The man could not seem to take his eyes off the beautiful young woman even when he was engaged in conversation with one of his fellow courtiers. Viscount Beauchamp was keeping a protective eye on the King's Precious Pearl, much to Durham's disgust. There was no opportunity to take this incredibly curious virgin behind an arras or tapestry to steal a kiss or engage in a brief dalliance. The practice of Courtly Love was still rampant at the Tudor court mayhap Durham would try his hand at becoming the lady's 'lover' in the chivalrous and chaste sense though he did quite fancy taking this flame haired beauty to bed, becoming her lover in truth. His Lady wife was far away in the north, no rumors would reach her there if he made the decision to dally with Forbidden Fruit. Though he did not fancy forfeiting his lands and title if he was brought up upon charges of High Treason. He did not relish the thought of being placed into a dank and uncomfortable prison like the Tower of London or losing his head, for certainly the king... No woman was worth facing such distressing consequences for, was she? Even a woman as tempting as the Princess Mary was proving to be. 

"How long will it take him to take what he wants? He does, does he not? Snatch at all that he covets? He manages to possess it all eventually!" Durham stated, looking back to cast a cold challenging look at Edward Seymour. 

"That, My Lord Durham is for the Lord in His infinite mercy to decide. He and he alone. He holds Viscount Beauchamp's fate in His hands as He does that of every personage, high or low in this hall. Allowing for freewill, of course. If He so desires it, it will happen in His time. It is not for us to speculate upon." Mary explained. 

"He is intent on taking all he can to achieve his ambition. If he was not known for being so cold and reserved, I would be concerned for Your Ladyship's reputation. Beg Pardon, Lady Mary but Viscount Beauchamp has been spending more time with Your Ladyship than protocol deems prudent for an unmarried lady of your degree to be finding herself in the company of such a gentleman. Several hours at a clip in truth without a chaperone present." Durham observed. 

"If His Majesty the king has place his complete trust and faith in Viscount Beauchamp, knowing that nothing untoward will happen to me. There is no need to being unnecessary gossip. Who would even dare or consider that His Lordship behaves less than a gentleman when he is accompanying me? Lord Durham, for the love and respect you bore for my mother and the respect that I know that you harbor for me and the esteem with which you hold me, I would ask that you please cease in making your insinuations and casting aspersions against Viscount Beauchamp's good name." 

"Lady Mary..." Durham said giving her a discreet neck bow handing her off to her next partner, moving off to be paired with Lady Jane Rochford leaving Mary with James Lannister. 

"Lady Mary." He greeted her bowing with a flourish. 

"Lord Lannister." Bobbing a curtsey, she greeted him in turn, before the music began again. 

From across the room, Edward discreetly changed his position to afford himself a clearer view of the dancing, Lord Lannister dancing with Mary in particular. Edward did not trust the earl or his intensions toward the young woman. Even from the several yards that separated them, Edward could see from his stance and the way that he moved toward Mary that James Lannister was on the prowl, his present partner his intended target. 

"God's Foot, My Lady! You outshine every woman here! If you are not a succulent sight!" James commented. 

"Thank you, My Lord." Heavens! His compliment was quite excessive. 

"Getting rather close to the likes of the Earl of Durham and Viscount Beauchamp, are you not? When I turn about that Young Ginger haired Northern Fox is at your elbow engaging your attention or Viscount Beauchamp, that Wiltshire Wolf, is out riding with you or hovering about your delectable person growling at any man that dares come near you. You do know, of course that both men are married?" James Lannister pressed. 

"My Lord Lannister what is it that you seek to tell me?" Mary asked firmly as they began to dance.

"I do not wish to see Your Ladyship's reputation sullied by spending inordinate amounts of time with gentlemen who, because of their present commitments, can only afford the pleasures of a Courtly Love Affair. Durham was known to be a bit of a rake in his time and Viscount Beauchamp is so haughty and reserved." 

"So I have been told, Lord Lannister." Mary said, coolly. 

"Since you enjoy dancing so much there is another new game that you might enjoy at court." He said to her, changing the subject. How this golden haired young woman fired his blood. He was burning with lust for her. He was determined to have her or at least have a taste of her before she was married off to that foreign bastard. 

"What is it?" Mary asked. 

"It is called fellatio. I would be more than delighted to instruct you." He offered. 

"One must be instructed as to how to play at it?" She asked rather skeptical. Her conversation with Sir Francis Bryan about what he had termed as an 'Old Country Practice' made her wary. She did not trust the look in James Lannister's eyes nor that of his sister, Lady Celeste whom was watching them intently from across the room, seemingly fixated upon her brother and Mary. 

"Yes, My Lady. It is incredibly enjoyable once one learns... Trust me." He reassured her. 

"I would have an explanation before I make a decision." Mary replied. She did not care for the way Lord Lannister was looking at her. She did not really care for James Lannister, period, a fact that he was not well aware of. James Lannister enjoyed playing with fire. The thought of having this lovely young woman engaging in and learning lascivious acts from himself and Celeste beneath the very nose of His Majesty the King and Viscount Beauchamp was deliciously tempting. He would enjoy showing the flame haired beauty how to suckle him whilst Celeste pleasured Mary with her mouth. 

"I would have that pretty rosebud mouth of yours about my member. A skill a bride should master before she travels to her marriage bed. A pity that it will not be mine. You are one of the most beautiful women in this court, Lady Mary. Your skin is perfection. I shall dream for many nights of how I would look upon you and give you the most exquisite pleasure that you have ever known. What I would teach and do to you..." 

"You are far too bold, Lord Lannister. I would that you cease this discussion at once! What manner of woman do you believe me to be?" Mary asked. 

"An incredibly curious virgin that was made by God for pleasing a man. You were born to be fucked." He stated plainly. "Fucked by a hot blooded man like me, there are no men like me. After I am through with you, you will not be able to walk for days but I am most certain that you would not want another man between those soft white thighs but me." 

From his position seated upon his throne upon the dais, Henry watched his Precious Pearl with Lord James Lannister. Something that the earl had just said to Mary has obviously distressed her. Henry could see her visibly tense as the earl moved about with her in the intricate figures of the dance, attempting to disengage her hand from where James Lannister held it fast in one of his. Henry caught Edward Seymour's eye from where the viscount stood speaking with Thomas Cromwell and Richard Rich. The king waved him over. 

"Your Majesty?" Edward asked after bowing before Henry awaiting his instructions. 

"A fair damsel appears to be in need of rescuing, Viscount Beauchamp, something most precious to us." Henry stated, pointedly looking at Mary and Lord Lannister. The earl was apparently not being a gentleman. It was one matter for Henry to send one of his courtiers to test his daughter's virtue as he had Sir Francis Bryan. Woe to any of his courtiers that attempted to taint Henry's jewel. Especially the likes of Lord James Lannister, Henry himself had heard rumors from Cromwell of the man's reputed debaucheries some that even involved his own sister. Henry almost shuddered at the thought. He would have Cromwell and Rich look for further evidence. If there was plausible cause, James and Celeste Lannisters lives would be forfeit. "Take her away from that beast before he attempts to devour her, Edward." 

"The Lady Mary appears to be quite capable, Majesty." Edward said upon hearing James Lannister yelp in pain. Mary had stepped not too gently upon the man's foot. 

Henry barked with laughter. "Clever child, waiting for the opportune moment to strike." He said approvingly watching Mary dash away from Lord Lannister. "Catch her before she finds herself in the clutches of one of those other eager pups. Go!" 

Edward bowed to the king, knowing that he had been dismissed. Mary was attempting to get past a group of about half a dozen young blades that were all too quick to block her path to the sanctuary of Queen Jane's and Mary's own women who were standing along the perimeter of the dance floor. One young man had just stepped in front of her. He had obviously had drunk far too much wine that evening. He would never have done such a thing in clear sight of his king if he were sober. Fortunately Edward was there before the young man had a chance to accost Mary, who was doing the best to hide the distress of her encounter with Lord Lannister. 

"Lady Mary." Edward said, approaching her, one of his arms reaching out to grasp one of her elbows turning her away. "Excuse us, gentlemen." He added absently to the young men. "No need to be distressed, Sweetheart. I am here now. I will safeguard you." Edward whispered in one of her ears so that she could only hear as he guided her to a curtained window in the ballroom away from prying eyes. "What happened to distress you so?" 

Turning about, so she was now facing him, Mary looked up into his face. Edward's dark blue eyes were glittering with anger in the candlelight, his jaw set, lips pursed. "Lord Lannister was behaving not as a gentleman of his station should. He made some lewd and lascivious suggestions." Mary told him. 

He could see her trembling with fear. "What did he say?" Edward asked soothingly. 

"That I was made to be fucked." Mary stated, a hand coming up to hide her face, which was hot with shame. 

James Lannister, for all his callous behavior, was most correct when he made that comment, Edward thought to himself. Mary had been fashioned to experience the pleasures and passions found between two lovers. He, himself, was falling desperately in love with her. He could imagine that James Lannister would succumb to Mary's evident charms as well, she was also considered a matrimonial prize here and abroad. The man was a rake and a rogue, Edward suspected that Lannister said far more than what she was telling him. "What else did he say?" Edward prompted. 

"He wanted me to place my lips about... about... about his member. To suckle... that he wished to..."

"Good God!" Edward exclaimed after Mary had spoken of Lannister and his member. "Shhh... I can imagine what Lannister said given his reputation." Edward said, allowing Mary to move closer to him as she sought comfort in his embrace, enveloping her in his arms, allowing her to rest her head against his chest as he began to stroke her back to calm her. 

"He said that he was not finished. That he... I fear for my virtue." 

"Not after Your Ladyship stepped upon his foot causing him to howl in pain. Certainly..." Edward offered seeking to calm her. 

"Methinks it gave him cause to become more determined. He called me a 'golden haired lioness' saying that I possessed the traits of my Tudor and Plantagenet forbearers, that I was, hot blooded, fiery and amorous. That he would have me roaring my pleasure as he took me... I do not trust him. The look in his eyes when he gazes at me... Viscount Beauchamp, please! Would you?" 

"Let me come to your bed tonight. Dismiss your ladies when you retire. I will find a way , I promise, Mine Own Sweetheart." 

"If someone should see!" 

"I vowed that I would steal into your bed chamber soundlessly and undetected as the genie in the book of Eastern Fanciful Tales Don Franco sent you. I will appear. I will appear and keep the beasts at bay. Your Ladyship need not fear James Lannister or for your precious virtue." 

"You will not be missed?" She asked, discreetly referring to Lady Beauchamp. 

"Nay, that of whom you refer will not even notice my absence." Edward told her honestly. "She will be occupied elsewhere with one of her several lovers."   
"She has more than one?" Mary was shocked. 

Edward mutely nodded. "Expect me. I will come, Sweet Siren." 

_____________________________________________________________________________________  
The Great Hall was virtually deserted when Mary decided to make her way back to her apartments with a pair of her ladies, pausing for a moment as she left the hall, hearing sounds of what appeared to be pain coming from behind an arras. Mary left the women to investigate. Her fingers going to her mouth to stifle a cry of shock.   
Anne, Lady Beauchamp was one her knees before James Lannister apparently engaging in what he desired Mary to perform upon him as his sister, Celeste knelt behind Lady Beauchamp, whose skirts were lifted about her waist. Lady Lannister was upon her hands and knees, her head between Lady Beauchamp's thighs as Sir Francis Bryan impaled her from behind. Mary dropped the arras not before Sir Francis Bryan caught sight of her, smiling wickedly and winking at her with his good eye. She dashed away as quickly as she could, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. 

"Madame?" One of Mary's ladies inquired. 

"Let us leave this place." Mary replied, leaving the Great Hall with her women behind her.   
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
"Thank you, Susan. I will require you no longer this evening. You may go." Mary told her chief lady in waiting and closest friend as Susan finished brushing her mistress's hair with a brush dipped in the jasmine oil that Don Franco had sent. 

She was dressed in a simple low cut night rail with full sleeves, embroidered with purple and white violets and decorated with seed pearls it was made of the finest linen, almost transparent. 

"Yes, Madame, May God Grant you a Good Night." Susan said to her mistress. 

"And you." Mary replied, watching Susan leave the bed chamber.

Rising from the dressing table, she picked up a book from the table near the fireplace, whose flames fluttered and danced in the dimness of the room. Settling in a chair, she opened it, turning the pages absently as she waited. 

The sound of objects hitting the doors that led out to the terrace of her bed chamber, made her lay the book down and rush to the doors, lifting the curtains to see Edward below in the garden tossing another pebble at the doors, looking six shades of gorgeous in his shirt, slops and boots. She felt her heart begin to accelerate in her chest, opening the doors. "Have you gone totally mad? Someone will see you!" She hissed. 

"Mad for you. I am coming up!" He declared walking over to the thick ivy vine that climbed up the wall of the palace, hauling himself up, climbing up the vine whilst Mary watched him, praying that he did not fall, breathing a sigh of relief when he stepped over the marble terrace rail. 

She rushed toward him, launching herself into his arms, seeking the comfort of his embrace, lifting her face to his, inviting his kiss. 

His mouth met hers, his hands going about her, he could feel the warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips as he pulled her against him, running his hands up and down her back, over the slope of her bum, squeezing a buttocks making her moan against his mouth, as she thrust her hips forward against him, her fingers caressing the fine hairs at the nape of his neck moving up to tangle in his hair.

A shiver of desire danced down his spine as he continued to kiss her for several minutes, the two of them lost in each other. "Hardly the way that a genie steals into a room undetected, is it?" He asked against her lips. 

"No, but it was most romantic. I pray that no one saw you!" Mary replied. "I am so glad that you are here! I need you, Edward..." 

"Did James Lannister give you any more trouble? He did not attempt to enter your apartments to rape you, did he?" Edward asked concerned. "The king should banish..." 

"No, Lord Lannister is otherwise occupied with your lady wife, Lady Celeste and Sir Francis Bryan." Mary managed to get out. "I am so sorry." 

"There is no need to be sorry. All four together? Sweet Jesu!" Edward exclaimed. "I am sorry that you had to witness that, Sweetheart. It must have been quite a shock." 

She nodded. He could see the fear in her eyes. "Please help me erase the memory of James Lannister's words from my mind, what I saw, show me the tenderness found in love...Edward..." She pleaded, disengaging from their embrace, taking one of her hands in his, guiding him from the terrace into the candlelit bed chamber toward the large four poster bed. 

Edward allowed her to lead him to the bed. In her present state it was important that she be in control so she would not lose her nerve. Virgins, like horses, could be skittish and needed a gentle hand. He would let her set the pace. "Your wish is my command!" He said, imitating the genie's words from the tale of Aladdin making Mary smile. "What manner of pleasures should I conjure for you this night?" 

"I wish to view you the way God fashioned you as you looked upon me earlier today." 

His eyes widened, his lips curving into a smile. "Will you act as my valet?" 

She nodded. She needed him tonight to help her feel safe and secure. James Lannister had frightened her. Oddly Thomas Nicholls had not. His comments regarding Edward had angered her but she found herself physically attracted to the earl even though she knew it to be sinful. Though not as deliciously sinful as her 'affair' with Edward Seymour, who would be naked in her bed soon enough once she helped him remove his boots and clothing. "Yes, Ned." She said, adding emphasis to her nod, reaching out to pull the hem of his shirt out of his slops, allowing him a moment to remove his boots, letting her slip his shirt over his head tossing it upon a nearby chair. 

Standing before her, letting her look at and admire him which she was doing quite openly much to his intense pleasure and amusement her sapphire eyes darkening with lust in the candlelight. "Come and touch me! Do not be shy. I promise that I will not bite unless you wish me to. Remember the slops and hose must be removed, as well. Are you losing your nerve?" He teased guiding her hands to his chest. "Touch me!" He instructed watching as she flattened her palms against his stomach, her gentle fingertips tracing swirling patterns against his skin the contact making his member become erect, the bulge visible. 

Mary looked down at the evidence of his physical reaction to her caresses. She felt herself blushing just as she reached out to graze it with her fingers, looking up at Edward for reassurance. 

His eyes fixating upon her, his lips slightly parted, his breathing ragged, licking his dry lips, he swallowed striving to calm the pounding of his heart and the bolt of pure desire that shot through him. Both proving futile as he watched her fingers travel to the laces of his slops, giving a gentle tug to undo the bow, untying them, swiftly unlacing letting them slip down over his narrow hips, yanking them lower, sliding over his bum, then completely off. The hose came next until he stood gloriously naked before her. 

Mary allowed herself a quick perusal of her lover's body. "I have never seen a grown man as God has fashioned him. Just infants at their baptisms and of few of the young lads of the villagers on my estates and at Ludlow... So this is the magnificence they can expect to grow into?"

Edward grinned. "Not bloody likely." He winked. 

"You are a rare specimen then?" She asked innocently. 

He laughed enjoying the fact that her assessment had become bolder, he could see the desire for him in her eyes. "Have you not snatched peaks at the gentlemen when they train?" He asked answering her question with one of his own. 

"Yes, I have. But none appear like this." 

"You can touch me. Let yourself explore. I am not made of glass. Quite honestly, I crave the feel of your hands upon me." 

"All over?" She asked, taking a step closer, laying her hands upon his chest this time, moving them quickly down his stomach, over a hip, unable to tear her eyes from the organ that seemed to grow even bigger, if that were at all possible, with each of her caresses. "Even here?" She asked grazing her fingers against it.

"Especially there." He said, helping her close her hand about him, showing her how to caress him. "Most especially there." 

"Do you like that?" She asked tentatively, still a wee bit uncertain, dancing her fingers against his length. 

"Yes. Very much." He replied. Good God! She would have him spill his seed in no time if she continued to touch him thusly. 

"Do all men, like Lord Lannister, wish that a woman would take it into her mouth to suckle upon it like a sweet?" 

"Only if the lady feels comfortable doing so. A gentleman does not force such desires upon his mistress." Edward explained. Curious Little Minx! She was leading him down a dangerous path one that he was more than willing to travel with her. Anne was seeking her pleasures elsewhere why was he not allowed to do the same? The difference being that he sincerely doubted Anne cared for her lovers whereas he cared most passionately about his. 

"Has anyone?" Mary knew it was a highly personal question but she needed to know. 

"Yes." Came the one word answer. It was enough to satisfy her. She did not need to know who it had been. 

"Would you like me to?" She asked. 

"Are you certain? Only if you truly want to, I know that you were quite frightened about it." Edward said. "Of course I would but I do not wish to force you to engage in any act that would be fearful to you." He wanted to travel particularly slow with her, be particularly gentle but the temptation was proving difficult to bear. She was so eager to please him because she trusted him to be tender. 

"Why would I ever be afraid when it is you, Ned?" She asked, her hand still stroking him as she leaned up to plant a kiss upon his jaw. "I know that you would never give me cause." 

He smiled smugly at that. He could not resist. Nor could he resist pulling her against him, dipping his head to kiss her soundly. "I am honored that you think so highly of me." 

"I have faith in you. So much faith that I trust you to teach me how to worship you. Must I kneel before you?" She asked, disengaging herself from his embrace going down on her knees in front of him. "Once kneeling what do I do? Do I lower my head and..." Opening her mouth, she brought it to the head of his erect organ, gently closing her lips about the very tip easing it lightly into the warm cavern of her mouth, suckling soothingly upon him, licking him tenderly with the tip of her tongue. 

"Yes! Sweet Jesu, Mary!" He rasped hoarsely, closing his eyes, feeling her take a wee bit more of him, swirling her tongue about him, then increasing the pressure of her lips ever so slightly about him as she continued to suck. Letting his hand fall away from hers he tangled it within the hair upon her head, kneading her scalp as she afforded to him some of the most intense pleasure he had ever know. Letting his head fall back as he sighed, contentedly, his breath quickly became shallow, coming in short harsh pants as she proceeded to work her sensual magic upon him, allowing her slender fingers to glide ever so gently about his hips and buttocks until Edward had to bite his lower lip to stifle a moan that threatened to escape. 

"Does this please you, Ned?" She asked, feathering tiny kisses upon him before taking him back into her mouth, quickly finding a rhythm that brought him closer and closer with each movement of her lips about him. Soon... 

"Mmmmm... Yes! Sweetheart... what are you? If you do not cease your exquisite torture... I will..." It was too late; his tribute flooded her mouth as he experienced an intense release. 

Mary took what was given to her, swallowing and drawing upon him until it was over, withdrawing her lips from about him. "Was that a proper veneration?" She asked, lifting her head to look up at him, delighted with the expression of utter bliss upon her lover's face. 

"Yes! You were magnificent!" He smiled. "But I must chastise you for your blasphemy, wicked naughty wench! Stand." He commanded. 

Mary did as he was bid, coming up off her knees. "What manner of penance do you intend to inflict upon me?" She asked, beginning to tremble with anticipation and desire viewing the look upon his handsome face. He so clearly wanted her. 

"This!" He replied, lifting her in his arms, carrying her the scant few feet to the bed, depositing her upon it. Pausing for a moment to admire her before coming to lay beside her, the look of pure naked hunger for her upon his face making her ache with longing, a longing centered between her thighs. 

"You are lovely." He stated. "I need to see you in the glow of the candlelight." His hands were soon all over her, pulling at the hem of her night rail lifting it up over her shapely calves, past her knees and thighs, slipping beneath, caressing her soft skin making her moan with pleasure. "Oh, Ned! Yes!" She encouraged him, lifting her bum slightly, helping him lift her night rail up over her head. 

Edward tossing it on the floor beside the bed, turning back to admire her nakedness, his deep navy eyes sweeping over her appreciatively. "Exquisite! You are exquisite! How your skin and hair glow in the light of the candles." He commented, coming to her. Starting at her forehead, he began his sensual assault on her body. Planting kisses from her forehead down her nose to the slightly turned up tip, her luscious mouth, the line of her jaw, the smooth slender column of her throat, his tongue slipping from between his lips to tease the hollow at the base. Moving southward, over her chest, even lower, his mouth closing over a breast, kissing and licking it, closing about the nipple, sucking upon it until it became a taut peak. Transferring his ardent attentions to the other, until Mary was moaning and writhing beneath him, breathlessly repeating his name over and over as she became more and more aroused with each sweep of his tongue over her nipple. 

"Does this please you, Sweetheart?" He asked, releasing her taut nipple from his mouth, kissing the smooth soft fragrant skin of her abdomen all over, grazing it with the fine hairs of his moustache and close cropped beard, tickling the skin, sending shards of pure desire coursing through her body. 

"Yes!" Mary could feel her face burning now, a feeling that threatened to sweep down her neck and over her chest. "Ned! Please!" She pleaded urgently, feeling the hairs upon his upper lip teasing one of the indentations of her waist, tickling the smooth skin as he kissed and licked her, nipping a hipbone gently, using his bearded chin to graze against her, the sensations of the fine hairs against her skin was driving her crazy. "Ooohhhhhh! Oh, God!" She cried up, gripping handfuls of the bed clothes, tossing her head back against the pillows, bringing a hand up to bite down against it to stifle a cry whilst the other gripped the bed clothes tightly, feeling his tongue dip into her navel. 

"Your penance is almost complete, My Love." He whispered, his mouth moving lower still, pausing for a moment, positioning himself properly between her legs, easing her thighs onto his shoulders. His tongue made contact with her little love button. 

Mary shrieked softly, feeling his mouth upon her, Edward's palms reaching beneath to lift her bum up, as he pushed his face against her hot sex, her thighs moving that much further up on his shoulders, as he continued to lick her, his tongue teasing and torturing her until she felt as though she would explode with her longing. Getting closer and closer, moaning his name over and over, softly, until finally she came, experiencing an intense orgasm, her thighs trembling with the force of it, turning her head to bite down on one of the feather pillows to stile her screams of pleasure as behind her closed eyes, her world shattered into a thousand stars and she came close to fainting.   
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
"Ah, Viscount Beauchamp, Your Lordship is up late this evening." Cromwell remarked leadingly. What was the Queen's elder brother about this late at night, what was left of it? He should be long abed. Soon the cock would be crowing the dawn of a new day. 

"On a mission from His Majesty the King, Mr. Secretary, keeping the wolves and other predators at bay." Edward explained. 

"From something that is precious to His Majesty?" Cromwell asked, he could faintly smell the scent of a women's perfume lingering upon the viscount's shirt. Only one woman at court wore that sent. "Performing in the capacity of a knight errant, My Lord?" 

"Aye, ladies do require such protection at all hours. "Edward replied. 

"Your Lordship takes the care and protection of that which is most precious to His Majesty quite seriously. Better to have a man that His Majesty trusts implicitly protecting that which His Majesty, once again, deems most precious to His Majesty's person. Lord Lannister most certainly would have forced his attentions up the Lady Mary. Though I do consider your methods of protection quite unorthodox perhaps even treasonous, one can see the merits behind them. His Majesty may sleep soundly knowing that his eldest daughter is in Your Lordship's most capable hands free from the corruption of such men as Lord Lannister and Sir Francis Bryan." 

"I endeavor unremittingly in His Majesty's Service performing all that is asked and required of me as a loyal subject should, Mr. Secretary." 

"See that it remains that way, Viscount Beauchamp." Cromwell told Edward Seymour. "I know that His Majesty has placed a great trust in you."


	6. Chapter VI

You're in my arms  
And all the world is calm  
The music playing on for only two  
So close together  
And when I'm with you  
So close to feeling alive

As life goes by   
Romantic dreams will start  
So I bid mine goodbye and never knew  
So close was waiting, waiting here with you  
And now forever I know  
All that I wanted to hold you  
So close

So close to reaching that famous happy end  
Almost believing this was not pretend  
And now you're beside me and look how far we've come  
So far we are so close 

How could I face the faceless days  
If I should lose you now?  
We're so close  
To reaching that famous happy end  
And almost believing this was not pretend  
Let's go on dreaming for we know we are  
So close   
So close  
And still so far - "So Close" from Enchanted 

 

In the Chapel Royal the following morning, Edward slipped into the pew beside Mary. Anne, his wife, nowhere to be seen. 

Queen Jane looked over at her brother. "Where is Viscountess Beauchamp?" She asked. 

"Indisposed, Your Majesty." Came the reply. Edward leaving his sister to supply what was lacking. 

Henry turned his head, scowling. He could just imagine what that insufferable baggage has been engaged in the previous evening. He pitied Edward Seymour his seemingly bad luck with women. His first wife, Catherine Fillol had been a whore as well, just as Anne Stanhope was. Fortunately, there was his daughter, the Lady Mary to keep Edward Seymour occupied so he did not have a spare moment to ponder his wife's infidelity. "The Lady Mary will keep you company, Viscount Beauchamp. Is not that correct, My Pearl?" 

"Yes, Your Majesty. If Your Majesty wishes, I would be most delighted to keep the viscount company." Mary replied. 

"Sweet Jesu, Brother! What did you present to the lady to make her eager and desirous to be in your company?" Thomas Seymour asked his older brother. His eyes sweeping over the king's daughter as he took his seat beside Edward in the pew, she was a pretty thing, he thought to himself. Edward had all the luck being appointed the chit's virtual governor! 

Mary cast her eyes downward, seemingly engrossed in the heraldic design embroidered upon the kneeler, knowing that she would be unable to look at Edward Seymour without blushing. Remembering how he made her feel when he took her in his arms, kissed her, caressed her, and touched her intimately, with his fingers, lips and tongue. "Your brother, Mr. Seymour, is an excellent backgammon and chess opponent." Mary replied, unable to resist. 

Edward grinned. "It is true." He confirmed, quickly winking at Mary, who did manage to blush prettily, casting a glance at Edward out of the corner of her eye. 

Thomas Seymour looked from his brother to the Lady Mary and back again. "He is not the only man in the family skilled at those games." Thomas said pointedly. "With His Majesty's permission, I would be more that delighted to indulge in such games with Your Ladyship..." 

"Denied." Henry stated. He did not care for the way Thomas Seymour was gazing at his daughter. Henry could see the lust in the man's eyes. If it were any other woman of the court, Henry would have appreciated Thomas's open admiration of the lady and his attempts at flirtation, the roguish behavior of which he was becoming famous. But not when it involved Henry's own child. Mary was most definitely not to be tarried with by such a rake as Thomas Seymour.   
"Your Majesty..." Thomas said, stung by the king's refusal, inclining his head respectfully. So that was how it was to be? That was the end of it because the Mass began. 

Throughout the Mass, Mary and Edward stole glances at one another, accidentally touching one another, the brush of a finger against a hand, a hip, Mary's waist, the small of her back, Edward's thigh, his forearm. The subtle flirtation in the sacred space making it that much more forbidden and exciting especially when no one was aware of it but the pair of them. 

For the first time in her young life, Mary was having difficulty focusing on the celebrant and the Lord. The man seated beside her proving to be too much of a distraction. She finally had to close her eyes, concentrating on the words of the sacred scriptures and the hymns that the choristers were singing but even then Edward Seymour invaded her thoughts. It was quite distressing to the devout young lady who was used to pondering the divine whist at Mass not the rich timber of her lover's voice and how he could not resist curling his lips up in a small smile every time their eyes met. 

Edward Seymour was not the only man in the chapel that morning that was casting covetous glances at the Lady Mary. Thomas Nicholls, the Earl of Durham was seated in such a way where he could view the lady quite clearly. Looking up from his prayer book, being certain Viscount Beauchamp's eyes were elsewhere, to catch Mary's eye, briefly, smiling, raising a brow and winking by turns, making her cast her eyes downward, flustered, back with great concentration to what prayers and illuminations were contained on the pages of her Book of Hours. Completely unaware that Lord Lannister, managing to have risen after his night of debauchery, had entered the chapel as the Mass had begun , and was standing in the back, watching her. Praying that he would be afforded an opportunity to catch her eye and speak with her. He was determined to approach her once more, persuade her to spend some time with him unchaperoned. Mayhap if Celeste and the delectable Viscountess Beauchamp accompanied them, he could amuse himself with Mary whilst watching Anne and Celeste pleasure one another as they had last evening, amusing him and Sir Francis Bryan before they had joined in the wickedness. He felt himself getting hard thinking of the possibilities, how she would respond to his touch. 

From his place in the chapel, Thomas Nicholls still cast covetous glances at Mary, as the Mass progressed. Once to be rewarded with a small smile which made him grin with undisguised pleasure behind his Prayer Book, lifting his eyes to capture hers once more, still smiling. Unfortunately, Edward Seymour took the moment to look up from his own Prayer Book catching Durham in the act, glaring across the aisle of the church. Foolish man! Edward thought. What if the king were to view Durham's behavior? Turning his head to snatch a peak at Mary whose eyes were downcast, seemingly intently interested in her prayers. Feeling his eyes upon her, she glanced up, meeting his gaze, smiling up at him, her lips curling in a pretty smile. 

"Wily fox!" Edward muttered.

Mary coughed gently hiding her snort of laughter at the jest at Thomas Nicholls's expense. 

The congregation soon knelt for the Consecration. Edward, ever the gallant, assisting Mary as she knelt upon the kneeler pillow, both bowing their heads. Mary catching a peak as the rays of the sun came through the stained glass windows catching the golden lights in Edward's dark blond hair, making it shine. The effect making her heart clench within her chest as she resisted a powerful urge to reach up and touch a strand of it, but she restrained herself.   
Looking up for a moment, her eyes meeting those of Thomas Nicholls, once more, who upon seeing that Edward's were downcast, winked at her, his lips curling into a rakish smile. Mary shot him a reproving look. She could see his shoulders shaking with mirth. How he wanted to kiss that rosebud mouth until it was bruised and swollen and she was breathless. 

Mary looked down, brushing her hand against Edward's forearm. 

"The Wily Fox, once more?" He whispered. 

"Yes!" She whispered back. 

"Remind me to growl at him!" He said so only she could hear, refocusing upon the Consecration. 

It came time to recite the Pater Noster and exchange the Kiss of Peace before the congregation knelt once more for the Agnus Dei. 

Mary tried to maintain her composure, when during the Kiss of Peace, Edward pulled her close. 

"Tonight!" He whispered. One word. She knew what it meant. 

"Yes!" She whispered back against one of his ears, the words so low that only she and he could hear them. 

When it came time to receive Holy Communion, the Royals were the first to approach the rail up at the altar to receive. On the way back to their seats, Mary spied Lord Lannister at the back of the chapel. He seemed to follow her with his eyes as she walked back to her seat, kneeling down to pray. The predatory look on his face sending a shiver of fear down her spine as he smiled wolfishly. 

Celeste and Anne had not satisfied him last evening. It was Mary that James Lannister wanted. He wanted to hear her scream his name when he pierced her maidenhead. He would have to speak to the king to offer for her. Telling Henry that he would take the girl in just her shift if need be, without a dowry. She incited his lust. He had to have her naked in his bed. 

Fortunately the object of James Lannister's thoughts was totally unaware. Mary knelt in prayer as other members of the court stepped up to the rail to received Holy Eucharist including the dashing Earl of Durham, who could not resist smiling and winking at her when he briefly caught her eye as he made his way back to his seat.   
Mary could not resist returning his smile in spite of herself. The audacity of the man! She would have been furious if he were not so blasted handsome and charming even if he had said unkind words about Edward. It was just a smile. What harm could a smile afford? He was also family. 

James Lannister walked up to aisle, genuflecting before reaching the Communion Rail, trying to contain a smile remembering how the priest had reacted to his Confession that morning. James was certain that the poor old priest was going to have a fit of apoplexy after what James had told the cleric of his sins including the previous night's activities. Rising from the rail, he made his way back up the aisle to his seat, disappointed that the Lady Mary had not looked up when he had passed her. The young woman appeared to be quite absorbed in her Book of Hours. Damn it! There would certainly be another opportunity to gain the lady's attention after the Mass had concluded.   
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
"Lady Mary! Good Morrow! I am looking forward to viewing the roses in the garden..." 

"Roses? What of Viscount Beauchamp, Sweetheart? Most certainly His Lordship will accompany yourself and Lord Durham. We command it." Henry stated. 

"The practice at the archery butts...?" Mary asked her father, her voice trailing off. 

"Yes, yes... Viscount Beauchamp shall be at your side." Henry told his daughter. 

"As Your Majesty commands." Durham said bowing reverently before his sovereign. He would have to devise an alternative plan to find himself alone with the lady. The king, apparently, only trusted his queen's elder brother with his daughter's virtue. Therefore Beauchamp had to be about the Lady Mary at all hours of the day and night. Pity! 

"We do, Lord Durham." The king said, indicating that the earl was dismissed. 

Thomas Nicholls bowed once more and moved off, backwards as protocol demanded, his eyes upon the lady, until he stood and turned, a smile playing about his mouth.   
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
The king scanned the courtiers for a glimpse of James Lannister, the Earl of Merioneth. This morning, Henry had heard of the words Lannister had spoken to his daughter, Mary the previous evening, crude and lecherous words. The earl's mere intentions were treasonous. Henry had also heard of what had occurred later that evening, the debauchery between Lannister, his sister, Celeste, Lady Beauchamp and Sir Francis Bryan. Henry had no choice but to arrest Lady Celeste along with her brother. Lady Beauchamp would be quietly banished from court for a time, claiming that the stagnant air from the river Thames had ill effects upon her health. It would avoid a scandal. Bryan would be sent abroad on a diplomatic mission of to hunt for Reginald Pole in the Italian States where the cleric was rumored to presently be hiding.   
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
Mary walked in the palace gardens after breaking her fast that morning accompanied by Thomas Nicholls and Edward Seymour, one gentleman on each arm. The trio deep in discussion about the roses they were viewing. Weighing each varieties color, fragrance and beauty, the conversation seemed to meander down the path of games and pastimes. 

"We have lovely moors in Durham. They are almost like the fields here in the south, wonderful for galloping over. Though one has to be wary of rocks and the occasional downpour." Thomas Nicholls was explaining. "It would be my greatest pleasure to show them to you. You are always welcome to visit, My Lady. I... erm, we would love to have you." Durham's double entendre completely intensional was not lost on Edward who frowned. 

Mary just smiled, totally oblivious to what the earl had said, enjoying the attentions of two such gallants as any young woman would. Still too innocent to realize that Durham was beginning to seduce her with his words and the velvet timbre of his voice which was almost as alluring and mesmerizing as Edward's. "Thank you, Lord Durham. You are far too kind." Mary said. "But I believe His Majesty had me entering into marital bliss not traveling north especially with the present unrest." 

"Certainly not! The Privy Council would not risk it!" Edward exclaimed. 

"One would imagine." Thomas Nicholls added, reading between the lines. The king and Cromwell would not risk sending Mary north when the pilgrims were demanding the ceasing of reforms and the dissolution of their beloved abbeys and monasteries. They wished to go back to the Old Ways. Mary, to the citizens, represented that which they wished would come back. Like her mother before her, Mary was beloved of the common people. They would rise in her name if she but gave the word. Which she would never do. 

There was also a king over the border in Scotland who was reckless enough to send a raiding party to try and capture her and take her to Edinburgh, marry her to one of his nobles, or to the king, himself, his negotiations to marry Madelaine of France not completed. Another risk that the King of England was reluctant to take. "It would be a diplomatic blunder if Don Franco came to court and His Lordship's intended bride was nowhere to be found because she was north riding over the moors, Lord Durham." Mary said. 

"With and English nobleman . It will not do at all." Durham agreed with an engaging smile. He chuckled. Riding over the moors, indeed. Riding him if he had his way, Thomas Nicholls thought as they continued to walk amongst the rose bushes. Mary causing the trio to stop to smell the fragrance of several of the pretty blooms.   
"Look at the lovely color of this one! Gracious! The fragrance is absolutely divine. Come, you must...Ouch!" Mary cried, pricking her finger on one of the rose's thorns, snatching it up to pop it in her mouth to stay the bleeding. 

 

"My Lady!" Both gentlemen chorused.   
"Let me see!" Thomas Nicholls was the quicker of the two, holding one of his palms out.

"Tis nothing. Truly." Mary protested. 

"You are bleeding. That is certainly something. Let me see." Durham repeated as she removed her finger from her mouth, the earl snatching her hand in his bringing it closer to examine it, completely not intimidated by Edward Seymour who stood by glaring at him, irritated that he had been bested. 

"Does it hurt?" Durham asked. 

"A wee bit." Mary replied, watching the earl's movements. They were so close she could see the faint smattering of freckles on one of his cheekbones, almost gasping when he brought the injured finger to his mouth to kiss it, flicking his tongue quickly against the tip just enough to make her start, the sensuousness of the act not lost on her. "All better now, My Lady." He told her, smiling, releasing her hand. 

Mary's cheeks colored prettily. "Thank you, My Lord. I appreciated your attention to my wound." 

"Is it truly better?" Edward asked. He was not taking his defeat well. Snatching the hand with the injured finger before Mary could do a thing about it he brought it up examine it, bringing it up to his mouth, taking the digit into his mouth to the first bend in the finger, sucking gently upon it before releasing it, planting a kiss on the wound. "Now I believe it is." He stated, his dark blue eyes meeting those of Thomas Nicholls's blue gray ones in an unspoken challenge.   
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
James Lannister looked at himself in the pier glass, adjusting the sleeves of his doublet, picking off a piece of lint here, a stray thread there. He wanted to look impeccable for when he saw her at the archery butts, to turn her heard, despite his advancing years he knew that he was still an incredibly handsome man, some would even still consider him still in his prime. He hoped to have an opportunity to speak with her. 

THWACK! The doors to his apartments were thrown open with such force that they wacked the paneled walls behind them, rattling on their hinges. Half a dozen Yeomen Warders entered the room, along with Thomas Cromwell, Richard Rich and Thomas Seymour. 

"James, Earl of Merioneth, by order of His Majesty the King you are charged with high treason against the realm. We are to convey Your Lordship to the Tower and there you will be lodged to await trial for said offences at His Majesty's Leisure." Thomas Cromwell announced. 

"How have I offended His Majesty's Grace that it constitutes high treason?" James Lannister asked. 

"Come now, Lord Lannister, your memory cannot be so faulty. Mayhap the rack within the precincts of the Tower could assist you in remembering?" Richard Rich asked. 

"Sir Richard?" Lannister asked, confused. 

"Tut... tut... My Lord, beguiling by your words and intent to incite the King's eldest daughter to engage in unlawful sexual intercourse with Your Lordship." Cromwell admonished the earl. 

James Lannister turned deathly pale. "They were only words... I swear it never passed beyond words. I want to marry the lady! Would have taken her in her shift if His Majesty had been so inclined eschewed a dowry." 

"The mere intention of your words constitutes high treason." Richard Rich reminded him. 

"But His Majesty allows his unmarried daughter to spend hours unchaperoned with Viscount Beauchamp, who could have fucked her five times over for the hours he spends with her. Tell me, Sir Thomas, does your brother brag to you that the young lioness roars his name when over and over when she reaches her crisis when he rams her deep?" 

SMACK! The sound of Thomas Seymour hitting Lord Lannister across the face sounded about the room. "My brother is an honorable man. He has never touched her! How dare you!" Thomas Seymour growled at the other man, so angry that he was shaking. 

"Are you absolutely certain?" Lannister drawled, raising and eyebrow. 

In response Sir Thomas Seymour's made contact with Lord Lannister's jaw. 

"Striking a man within the precepts of the court in an offence.." Lannister began rubbing his bruised jaw. 

"Not when it pertains to a treasonous piece of shite like you!" Thomas Seymour spat, casting Lannister a disgusted look. 

"Take him away!" Rich said to the Yeomen Warders. 

The Yeomen Warders closed about Lannister as Cromwell's minions began ruffling through Lannister's possessions searching for evidence   
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
Out in the gardens, totally unaware as to what was transpiring inside the palace, Mary lead Lord Durham to the maze, Edward having been summoned to attend His Majesty the King. 

"I do hope you know the way out!" He exclaimed, following her into the tall green hedgerows. 

"You do not believe that I would lead you into the unknown, would you?" She asked him, sweetly. "You trust me, do you not?" 

"I... I... Of, course I trust you!" He replied looking at the mischief in her eyes. 

"Foolish man!" She laughed, taking his hand pulling him along. "When I was a young girl, the Marquess of Dorset and Lady Clifford along with Lady Margaret Douglas and myself, would venture into this maze with our governesses. Lady Salisbury got lost for hours once until I was sent to find her and lead her out. Fortunately my parents never heard of the escapade. Uncle Charles did." 

"What did His Grace of Suffolk do?" Durham asked, chuckling imaging the antics of the group of his young royal female cousins. 

"He made a great a show of giving the quartet of us a stern reprimand." Mary replied. 

"He was not serious, was he?" Durham asked, he knew Charles Brandon well enough to know that the duke liked a good joke. 

"Heaven's no!" Mary answered. "He could not very well punish the Heir to the Throne, as I was then, now could he? I had already made amends to My Lady Governess so there was naught for His Grace to do." 

"Ah-hah! Clever young lady! Covering all the spaces. " Durham said. "Are you always so resourceful, My Lady?" 

"When the situation merits it. Come now, My Lord, do you know the way to the center of the maze?" She challenged him, allowing him to lead the way. 

There were dark corners created by the hedges as they ventured further and further into the maze, dashing this way and that until the earl stopped abruptly causing Mary to fall into his arms, her body colliding with his with the momentum. 

"My Lord!" Mary said, brethlessly, her sapphire colored eyes meeting his blue gray ones, the sun casting shadows against his face, enhancing the sharpness of his cheekbones, his engaging smile, drawing them closer. Closer. Closer. His elegant hands encircling her narrow waist. 

"You are so very lovely." He murmured before his head dipped, his mouth claiming hers in a delicious kiss, his lips slanting over hers as her arms snaked up about his neck. 

Blessed Christ! She was sweet! He thought tasting a faint hint of peppermint then honey and candied rose petals. It excited him. 

He was as tall as Edward, mayhap a tad thinner, she could not clearly tell through the layers of his clothing. The feel of his mouth rather wonderful, the only other man she had experience kissing had been Edward, he had a fine moustache and beard that tickled when they kissed. Lord Durham was clean shaven; the sensation was different, smooth and soft, he tasted of cloves and mint and something else she could not place. Something that sent a shiver of pure desire down her spine and made her weak at the knees similar feelings to when she was kissing Edward, but when Edward's mouth was upon hers all the feelings seemed magnified threefold. This was almost as wonderful. Almost. Especially when one of his hands skimmed down her waist over one of her hips moving over her bum, his hand running over her skirts, pulling her that much closer against him, as his mouth continued its gentle assault on hers as he became a wee bit bolder. Just a bit more, he told himself. Give me a sweet memory to take back north to warm my nights when they became cold once more. 

The sound of a bird singing in one of the trees nearby and the sound of a boatman upon the river startled them, making them pull apart from one another. 

"I trust you to keep what happened here within the privacy of the maze, My Lord." Mary said, smoothing her skirts, attempting to keep her voice steady; her chest rising and falling as she gained her composure. God Help her! She found him damnable attractive! Not as lovely as Edward but there was so much about Thomas Nicholls to recommend him

"On my honor, my dear sweet lady." Thomas Nicholls vowed gallantly with a smile. "Whatever you wish, my Angel, I will do whatever you wish."   
_____________________________________________________________________________  
Where is Lady Beauchamp? I expected her to be in attendance upon Her Majesty. Is she not the one that sorts the embroidery silks in the sewing basket?" Mary asked. They were in the Queen's Presence Chamber after an eventful morning. Mary did not have a chance to practice archery with the gentlemen, Queen Jane having required her. She was most grateful. She was dreading seeing Lord Lannister, who most certainly would have been there. 

"Have you not heard, Lady Mary? His Majesty has given Lady Beauchamp leave to travel to Wolf Hall immediately. Her Ladyship left this morning. Apparently the vile vapors from the river, Thames were making her ill. Unfortunately for you, Viscount Beauchamp did not accompany her. No hope in that dishy brother of his replacing him. I still do not understand how you endure it. Those cold eyes ever watchful, constantly upon you." Ursula Misseldon shuddered. 

"Like a wolf contemplating an innocent lamb." Lady Rochford added, coming about the chair where Mary sat sewing one of Edward's shirts. "Does that not frighten you?" 

"No, Lady Rochford, it does not. Viscount Beauchamp was responsible for protecting me from the Earl of Merioneth. If it were not His Lordship I would have been in grave danger and fearful for my virtue. As it was, Lord Lannister did not behave in a manner befitting his station." 

"Lord Lannister has been arrested on a charge of high treason and conveyed to the Tower of London along with his sister, Lady Celeste this morning. The entire court has been buzzing about it." Ursula Misseldon said. 

"Do not be distressed, My Lady, Lord Lannister's reputation precedes him. No one would ever think of casting aspersions upon your good name. Your virtue and piety are known and respected throughout the court and beyond." Lady Rochford explained to Mary, who from the look upon her face had not heard of Lord Lannister's arrest that morning. "Though with Your Ladyship's impending betrothal will His Majesty send Your Ladyship to another palace to quell the wagging tongues?" 

"His Majesty has not given orders or any indication." Mary replied. 

""His Majesty would send Viscount Beauchamp to accompany you for protection." Anne Bassett speculated. 

"I would not know, Mistress Bassett. If His Majesty chooses to send me away to safe guard my reputation from the court gossip and chooses to send Viscount Beauchamp to accompany me seeing as His Lordship is most valuable to His Majesty. I do not know if His Majesty could spare him. As a loyal subject of the King, my Most Esteemed Father, I will accept His Majesty's decision without question or complaint. Accepting whomever he chooses to safeguard my virtue." Mary replied. 

"So diplomatic and quite truthful, Lady Mary." Lady Rochford said, approvingly. 

"Thank you, Lady Rochford." Mary replied, looking down to focus upon the hem she was finishing. 

"Thank you for what?" The king asked coming into the room along with several of his courtiers including Viscount Beauchamp and Lord Durham. 

Everyone stopped what they were doing, stood and curtseyed. 

"Sweetheart!" Henry directed his endearment to his daughter. "We are sending you away from the court for a few days. Richmond Palace has been placed at your disposal. Though we do require him about us, we have commanded Viscount Beauchamp to accompany you. It will not be for long, a week at most. We have heard that Don Franco's fleet is scheduled to dock in London within the week. There are rumors that the don carries many exotic and costly gifts that he wishes to present. We will be more than pleased to receive them when such time arises. Until such time, we will leave you in Lord Beauchamp's most capable and loyal hands."


	7. Chapter VII

Long day and I'm ready,  
I'm waiting for your call,  
Cos I've made up my mind.  
My heart aches with a hunger,  
And a want that you were mine,  
No, I cannot deny.  
So for one night,  
Is it alright,  
That I give you....

My Heart, My Love, My Heart,  
Just for one night.  
My Body, My Soul,  
Just for one night.  
My Love, My Love,  
For one night.  
One Night  
One Night

When morning awakes me,  
Well I know I'll be alone,  
So don't you worry about me.  
I'm not empty on my own,  
For inside, I'm alive,  
That for one night,  
It was so right,  
That I gave you....

My Heart, My Love, My Heart  
Just for one night  
My Body, My Soul  
Just for one night  
My Love, I Loved  
For one night  
One Night  
One Night

For one night  
It was so right  
That I gave you

My Heart, My Love, My Heart  
Just for one night  
My Body, My Soul  
Just for one night  
My Love, I Loved  
For one night   
"One Night" The Coors 

Mary and Edward had their evening meal of cold fowl, fruit, bread, cheese and wine eaten in the library in front of the fireplace, two servants in attendance to lay out the food and pour the wine. Mary dismissed the pair, serving herself and Edward from the makeshift sideboard. They sat upon cushions in front of the crackling fire dressed comfortably. 

Mary in a loose gown and brocaded dressing gown in Tudor green edged about the cuffs and hem with white fox fur, the closures in the shape of enameled gold Tudor roses. Her hair pulled off her face, dressed with matching green silk ribbon and strands of pearls, she had pearl studs in her ears and a strand of pearls about her throat. 

Edward had slipped into a lynx-lined navy blue brocaded robe after his bath (taken soon after they had arrived at the palace early that evening), belted. He wore nothing beneath. There were colorful brocaded slippers upon his feet representing the chivalric scene of Saint George slaying the dragon portions of the design emphasized with precious and semi-precious jewels. 

"Were you the only nobleman His Majesty considered to accompany me to Richmond to protect my honor, virtue and reputation from wagging tongues?" Mary asked. She was curious. 

"Does it truly matter? His Majesty the King did entrust me with the honor. Incredibly curious, are you not, Lady Mary? If you must know His Majesty considered His Grace the Duke of Suffolk, The Marquess of Dorset, the Earl of Durham and me." 

"Oh!" Mary exclaimed unable to help herself, popping a piece of chicken into her mouth chewing quietly, looking up at Edward. "Why does His Majesty use every opportunity at his disposal to place us in one another's company?"

"Would you have preferred someone else? I thought you liked me or have I been replaced in your affections by that Wily Northern Fox? Are you to prove to be a fickle female?" Edward asked referring to Durham.

"He does have much to recommend him, but... As for being fickle, I believe, My Lord Beauchamp that you will find that I have a steadfast heart. Once engaged it holds true." Mary explained to him. 

"But?" Edward prompted taking a sip of wine, staring at her. "How fortunate for the man you chose to give your heart to." He added wistfully. 

"But... Lord Thomas Durham is not you." She replied honestly. 

"Certainly he is the sort of man that a woman such as you would give her heart to? But Lord Thomas Durham is not me." Edward inquired. "Is that distressing to Your Ladyship?" 

"Yes." She answered remembering how Durham's mouth had tasted and his body had felt against hers when they were in the maze locked in that embrace. "I feel secure when you are about. You are my knight errant, my champion. As His Majesty, my father wishes it to be." 

"When Durham is about?" Edward asked. 

"Not as secure. He is quite chivalrous but I do believe that the earl would be more of a Lancelot than a Galahad. He stole a kiss from me in the maze." She stated, plainly. 

"Did he now? That was not very chivalrous of him, was it? Must I remind you how intimate we have been? That does not distress you? We have done far much more than kiss in a maze, Sweetheart. Did his kiss make you feel the same as when I press my own lips to yours?" Edward asked. Damn! Durham was clever! 

 

"You will have to refresh my memory. I seem to have forgotten." She flirted with him.   
He knew that she was lying. He had witnessed her reactions and felt his own when they had kissed. "Pretty Little Liar! Angling to be kissed, Sweet Siren? He observed, smiling roguishly. 

"Am I so transparent, Ned?" She asked, lowering her eyes looking up at him through her lashes in a practiced coquettish gesture. 

"When it comes to me and your desires, Sweet Siren, I find it refreshing, honest and purely English. There is no artifice." 

Reaching over she touched his mouth with her fingertips. "Shhhh... Hush, My Darling. That wonderful mouth of yours should be pressed against mine, not speaking." 

He chuckled. "Direct, not demure." 

"I can be demure if you wish. I can be all you desire. What do you wish me to be?" She asked. 

My wife! He thought. "Tell me what is in your heart, what do you want?" He answered her question with a question. 

"What do I truly want? I want the position where God, in His Mercy, seeks to place me, a nursery full of children and a good, true and honest man that loves me, and only me, for a husband." Foolish man! I want you! But I cannot have you because you belong to someone else. Someone that does not deserve you! She thought. 

"God willing, you will find all of it when you marry Don Franco." Edward replied. 

"But His Majesty takes every opportunity to place us in one another's company. It is not my place to question the King..." 

"No, it is not." 

"But why? Is he testing our resolve? Does he not know how we feel for one another? No chaperones, no other family members about, just us two." 

"Sweetheart, it is a testament to the great trust that His Majesty has placed in me that we are allowed to be alone together without chaperones." Edward explained. 

"His Majesty entrusts my precious virtue to the man of his court that he should be most wary of. Or mayhap, my father has known all along what he has been about. I do not know if His Majesty knew that I heard him but one morning after Mass, he asked me how the pair of us were getting on, that Her Majesty, Queen Jane had told His Majesty I was to make your shirts anon. That Your Lordship was coming to me to be measured for them. He commented that the only purpose Your Lady Wife, Viscountess Beauchamp had was for spewing venom. Then His Majesty mumbled beneath his breath that I would be in your bed soon enough as though it were most natural. His Majesty was not cross or distressed, quite the contrary, he was most calm and matter of fact as though it was what was to be, the inevitable." Mary said. 

"In my bed?" Edward asked, unbelieving, his eyes wide with shock, his mouth slightly agape, he swallowed, not knowing what to say. 

"Your king has given you permission..." Mary replied. 

"One does not question the King, My Lady." Edward said. "As loyal subjects of His Majesty it is our duty to obey." 

"What of the kiss that you promised me? My memory is in sore need of being refreshed. I must find if Lord Durham's kiss makes me feel the way that yours do." 

"You even have to compare them?" He asked, incredulous. "I am sore offended that you would forget my kisses so quickly." 

Mary smiled at her lover. "Oh,Ned! Does t hat mean that you will not acquiescence to my request? What if I asked kindly?" She asked moving closer to him, running a forefinger from the hollow at the base of his throat down his chest, inside his robe with agonizing slowness, caressing the smooth expanse of skin, leaning over him. Their gazes locking. Mary watching and gauging his reaction, she could feel the skin beneath her finger warming to her touch, his breathing becoming shallow, his chest rising and falling. Edward's lips parting slightly to allow the air to escape in a gentle hiss. 

"Who taught you?" He asked, capturing her hand in one of his, staying it, moving over her. "Or is it instinct, you flame haired Welsh witch? With a touch and look you ensnare a man when he should be sore cross with you." He gripped her, pulling her into his embrace, moving himself so his mouth was scant inches from hers. "Time to fresh that faulty memory. You will not be making comparisons when I am through." 

"No? So confi..." Her words were cut off as his mouth met hers. 

Edward lowering his hard warrior's body upon her, his chest crushing her breasts, his lips nipping against hers playfully, slowly ceasing as the kiss became more and more impassioned, one of his hands running up and down one of her sides, from breast to hip, caressing her through the fabric of her dressing gown. 

Mary moaned against his mouth, clutching at him, pulling him that much closer, shifting her body, allowing Edward to place a knee between her slightly parted legs.   
He chuckled. "Are you weak at the knees yet?" He asked against her wet and swollen mouth. 

"Uh-huh. Not just the knees." She answered, breathily, snaking an arm up, fingertips of the hand pressing against the back of his neck to hold him, arching her back up against him, seeking to get closer to the pleasure of his mouth and those delicious caresses. 

"What is the earl's name?" Edward asked. 

"Lo...lo...Lord Dormouse." Mary replied hotly from within the increasingly passion induced haze that he was creating within her mind. 

Edward laughed softly. "Forgotten so soon?" He teased, unable to hide the hint of triumph in his voice. "It appears that Your Ladyship prefers Wiltshire pups to Durham kits." He withdrew from her watching her, unable to hide his pride in her reaction, smiling with pleasure knowing that he had bested Durham once again.   
Mary's fingertips went to her lips, tracing over her bottom lip feeling the second brand of his kiss. He had staked his claim upon her once more, marking her as his.   
________________________________________________________________________  
Thomas, the Earl of Durham sat in his Presence Chamber that same evening, enjoying a glass of fine red wine, swirling the blood red liquid about in his silver goblet. He could not stop thinking about her. Those burnished curls, sapphire colored eyes, how she had responded to his kiss with a mixture of curiosity and awakening desire. She had been so vulnerable in the maze, he could have taken many more liberties if he had wished. She was young. She was an unmarried virgin but obviously so ready to become a bride. He could not have dishonored her or risked his own head. A nobleman languished in the Tower on charges of high treason for voicing his desires. 

He heard the door of his chamber open, a pretty petite maid with long red hair came in carrying a tray of fruit, bread and hard good English cheddar cheese. She lay the tray down upon a side near where the earl was sitting. 

Thomas's eyes narrowed speculatively at the young woman. Her hair was almost the same color as the Princess Mary's. In the light of the candles her eyes could appear to be sapphire blue not the green the most assuredly were. The maid's skin was almost as pale. She would do perfectly, he thought. He set his goblet down, rising, advancing upon the young lady. 

"What is your name, lass?" He asked tracing her cheek with a forefinger. 

"Molly, My Lord." 

"How old are you, Molly?" Molly?! Her name was perfect. Molly was a form of Mary. Thomas thought. 

"Fourteen, My Lord." She answered, as Durham traced his finger from her cheek down her neck to skim over the tops of her bosom bursting forth from her low cut tight bodice. 

"I want you, Molly. Can I fuck you?" He asked, bluntly. 

"Yes, My Lord!" Molly answered. God! He was a fine one! 

"Are you a virgin?" He did not wish to contend with an irate father or guardian. 

"No, My Lord." She said, working quickly on the closures of her bodice, shedding it, revealing small plump breasts. The rest of her clothing soon followed, she was naked save for her garters, stockings and shoes. 

He pulled her roughly into his arms, kissing her fiercely, his mouth moving down her body, quickly, pausing to lick her nipples, tongue her navel. Kneeling to part her thighs to taste her intimately, tonguing her until she was wet and writhing against him with her need. 

"Please, My Lord!" She cried frantically, ready to burst. 

Durham undid his codpiece quickly, coming up, bending the girl over the chair, entering her from behind, pumping into her methodically, one of his hands reaching about, a finger finding her little hidden jewel, stimulating it as he moved within her until she cried her pleasure. 

"Oh, Mary! Mary! Mary, my angel! Yes, yes, come for me." He whispered into her hair as he felt the girl spasm about his member that was still inside her burning sheath. Behind his closed eyes the girl had become the object of his desires in his fantasy; it was the princess he was making love to. His ache for her temporarily soothed. He pulled out of the young maid, adjusting his clothing, refastening his cod piece. "Run along, Molly." 

The girl gathered her clothes, dressing quickly. "If you require more of me, I will be most happy to serve, My Lord." She told him, her meaning all too plain. 

"Mayhap another time." He replied as he watched her leave, giving him an inviting smile before she disappeared behind the door of his Presence Chamber.   
_______________________________________________________________________  
He knew he shouldn't but she was irresistible, she needed him tonight to calm the fears that arrived when the deeper darkness descended. Edward went to her bedchamber, entering quietly like a cat, virtually undetected. 

She was embroidering an intricate pattern of vines interspersed with birds and small creatures along the collar and down the front placket of his shirt. Presently stitching a hare, using a French knot for the eye, she looked up upon hearing him approach. 

"I thought that we would read together." He said, quietly coming out of the shadows. 

"Read together? I thought that you would tell me a bedtime story." She said, laying aside her sewing upon a nearby table. 

"Would you like me to? I brought the book of Eastern tales. You had left it in the library. The one containing the tales of the 1001 Nights of Scheherazade, we were finishing the tales of the Seven Voyages of Sinbad the Sailor the last time we read together. I believe that we were on the tale of the fourth or fifth voyage were we not?" Edward asked. 

"Not the one with the dreadful cannibals? That was the fourth voyage. I believe we finished that one and were onto the fifth, was it not? The one involving Sinbad being enslaved by the Old Man of the Sea?" Mary answered his question with several of her own. 

"After yet another shipwreck." Edward said with a smile. Those blasted tales of Sinbad always appeared to involve a shipwreck in their plots. "Shall we read together?" 

"If you wish to, I would prefer a bedtime story. Could you tell me one?" She said, looking up at him, looking young and vulnerable. He knew that she did not wish to be alone. She was still frightened about what had happened to Lord Lannister and his sister, distressed that her own good name may be dragged through the mud and her reputation sullied and destroyed. 

"What manner of bedtime story would you wish to hear?" Edward asked, attempting to distract her from the unpleasantness she must be feeling. He could see the distress in her eyes, he would do all he could in his power to banish it away. 

"A story involving brave knights, fire breathing dragons and fair damsels in distress." Mary posed, walking over to him, taking the book from his hand laying it upon a nearby table. "Unless of course if you would care to finish Sinbad. I could tell you what happens. I took the liberty of reading on ahead. Then, of course, there are the tales from the Bible." Mary said, taking up another book that was upon the table. She opened it, turning several pages until she found what she was looking for. "Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth—for your love is more delightful than wine. Pleasing is the fragrance of your perfumes; your name is like perfume poured out. No wonder the young women love you! Take me away with you—let us hurry! Let the king bring me into his chambers." 

Edward took the book from her hand, recognizing the Song of Songs, King Solomon's love poetry, seductive yet religious, sensuous yet pious, soothing and words that could be used to lure a young virgin to the bed of her lover, to banish all the dark thoughts of nasty dark lords like Lord Lannister away. "How right they are to adore you! Dark am I, yet lovely, daughters of Jerusalem, dark like the tents of Kedar, like the tent curtains of Solomon. Do not stare at me because I am dark, because I am darkened by the sun. My mother’s sons were angry with me and made me take care of the vineyards; my own vineyard I had to neglect. Tell me, you whom I love, where you graze your flock and where you rest your sheep at midday. Why should I be like a veiled woman beside the flocks of your friends?" His gaze me hers in the candlelight, taking her hand, he led her to the curtained bed, drew her down beside him, turning the page. "Come with me from Lebanon, my bride, come with me from Lebanon. Descend from the crest of Amana, from the top of Senir, the summit of Hermon, from the lions’ dens and the mountain haunts of leopards. You have stolen my heart, my sister, my bride; you have stolen my heart with one glance of your eyes, with one jewel of your necklace. How delightful is your love, my sister, my bride! How much more pleasing is your love than wine, and the fragrance of your perfume more than any spice! Your lips drop sweetness as the honeycomb, my bride; milk and honey are under your tongue. The fragrance of your garments is like the fragrance of Lebanon. You are a garden locked up, my sister, my bride; you are a spring enclosed, a sealed fountain. Your plants are an orchard of pomegranates with choice fruits, with henna and nard, nard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with every kind of incense tree, with myrrh and aloes and all the finest spices. You are a garden fountain, a well of flowing water streaming down from Lebanon." Edward translated the ancient words from Latin to English as he read them to her, his voice soft and soothing like a caress, turning his head to look at her as he spoke, his head inching closer and closer to hers, tilting her chin up with long elegant fingers, pressing his mouth against hers, the sacred book falling from his hands landing with a resounding thud upon the floor as he drew her into his arms, easing her down upon the mattress of the bed as the kiss deepened and he eased his hard body against her, having a care not to allow his weight to crush her. 

Snaking her arms about his neck, she threaded her fingers into the hair on the back of his head, pressing gently against the back of his skull, as she lifted her chin a fraction higher, offering herself to him. Her mouth moving against his as the kisses deepened becoming more and more passionate and intense with each passing moment, enjoying the taste of him and the feel of his neat moustache and beard against the tender skin of her face, gently grazing against her cheeks and jaw as he tenderly nuzzled her, his mouth beginning to trail a path from her lips, down her jaw, nipping the tender hollow behind her ear with his teeth, continuing down a side of the smooth column of her neck, while nimble fingers worked at the closures of her robe, swiftly unfastening each in turn, until the fabric parted, falling open.   
Moving her hands between their bodies, she moved the dressing gown off her shoulders, Edward pausing from raining a trail of kisses against the hollow at the base of her throat and across her chest, to help her out of it, allowing it to tangle about her upon the bed. "Lift your bum." He instructed, using his free hands to attempt to pull the dressing gown out from under her, which he finally did. It fell off the bed to fall beside it. 

"What about yours?" She asked, her fingers traveling to the sash of dressing gown. "Tis only fair, Ned. Please. I do have to get used to the prospect of viewing a man as God has fashioned him." 

He grinned against her skin, chuckling lightly. "Honest and direct once again." 

"I could play the coquette. Would you prefer that?" She asked, sweetly. "I thought you preferred honest and direct English maidens. You told me so in the library." 

"Strictly raised honest and direct English maidens." He reminded her. "Since you did say please..." His voice trailed off, reaching down, helping her to tug upon the sash of his robe, undoing it, laughing with pleasure when she did not hesitate for a moment to delve her hands inside, enjoying the sensations of hard and firm male body and the softness of lynx fur against her finger tips. Swirling her fingertips over one whilst she buried them within the other, sighing with pleasure as she began to explore her lover's naked body. 

What she was doing was completely against her strict upbringing, all that her mother and Lady Bryan and the Countess of Salisbury had raised her to be. Princesses of the Blood Royal were not meant to succumb to their baser natures. Passion and lust were sins. She was not to give into the innate sensual nature that she had inherited from both of her parents. How could she resist it when her father dangled a man like Edward Seymour in front of her? He aroused feelings in her that she never knew she was capable of possessing. She was completely incapable of resisting him. 

Her hands were everywhere, dancing across his body; touching and caressing muscle, feeling nipples pucker and harden beneath her inquisitive fingers, skin warming, fine hairs standing upon end, feeling him shiver with desire beneath her exploring palm, a giggle of triumph escaping from between her slightly parted lips, her mouth curling up into a warm smile, delighted in the knowledge that she had him virtually twisted about her little finger. 

He had chased the dark clouds away for now. Sex was a potent distraction especially from the memories of Lannister's crude and vulgar words. He would have used Mary to satisfy his base and carnal desires with not a thought to her pleasure. Selfish cur! 

She need a man that cared very deeply for her, nay, loved her, to show her the incredible tenderness and affection found between lovers. What she and Edward had been exploring together in these wondrous nights. As now, feeling her hands all over him, descending down his lower abdomen, her destination clear, grasping his engorged, hard organ, caressing the length, tentatively at first and then with more confidence when she heard him begin to moan with pleasure making her giggle lightly, incredibly pleased with the sexual power she could wield over him. Taking the opportunity to lean in, kissing him, letting her hand fall away secure in the knowledge that he wanted her, allowing him to caress her through the thin fabric of her night rail lifting it up over her shapely calves.

Mary curling her toes as tiny flames of desire leapt up her legs to settle in her increasingly aching core, feeling his expert fingers dance up her skin from the tender backs of her knees to thighs to her tight rounded bum, taking the thin fabric with it, baring her to his gaze. Lifting her bum, he took handfuls of the night rail, lifting it up over her head, quickly, eager to get her out of it, tossing it upon the floor beside the bed leaving her quite naked. 

"Perfect. Just perfect." He murmured, his dark navy eyes sweeping over her from the tops of her pearl and ribbon dressed hair to her pink little toes. Easing himself down upon the bed, laying upon his back, he beckoned to her. "Come straddle my head, Sweetheart." 

Mary looked at him quizzically, inside, however; she was trembling with nervous excitement. "I... I... You wish me to...?" She blurted, looking at him. 

"Yes, Sweetheart, I am virtually starving... Don't be frightened, you will enjoy it, Mary Love. I promise..." He reassured her watching as he spoke her profound curiosity beginning to take over, he could tell by the thoughtful look upon her face, the slight knit to her brows making her look adorable. He smiled, unable to help himself. 

She moved across the bed, climbing astride him, straddling his face. Edward smiled wickedly up at her, snaking his tongue out from between his lovely mouth to flick against her swollen little hidden pearl of flesh. Mary gasping at the familiar sensation, slowly lowering herself further upon his mouth, until she felt the bristling of his beard and moustache against her increasingly sensitive wetness, nearly shrieking with pleasure at the sudden sensation. It was so deliciously wicked. His moustache and beard grazing against the tender skin of her most intimate place and her thighs, the slight chafing of his neat beard against her one of the most sensuous and delightful sensations she had ever experienced in her young life. 

Edward feasted upon her tender flesh as she began to rock her hips back and forth. He tenderly sucked and nibbled at her little hidden jewel, Mary having to hold herself rigid so she would not collapse against him. The feeling of his facial hair against her as she rode him driving her almost mad with desire, she was panting and moaning by turns, not able to seem to get enough of it. "Ned! Ned! Please! Oh, Sweet Jesu! Yes! Yes! Yes! Ohhhhhh.... Mmmmmmm... Ned, Please!" Sweet Mother Mary she was so incredibly close... She did not know if she was capable of enduring much more of this, especially when he reached up and inserted two long slender digits inside of her and began to move them within her, pressing them against the tight walls of her passage. "Nnnneeeeeddddd..." She moaned his name a low keening sound coming forth from the back of her throat, the sound of a woman in the throes of experiencing pure unadulterated passion, hoarse and breathy with her desire. No wonder why Lady Salisbury had kept her ignorant of the existence of such pleasures. She would have blasphemed and would have faced a harsh penance comparing them to Paradise. Certainly such manner of things as this existed in heaven? For most certainly God had created something that felt as wonderful as the feeling that Edward was creating in her at this moment. 

Half a dozen more strokes of his wicked tongue upon her hard nub of flesh and strokes of those elegant fingers insider her, by now wet and burning sheath, and she soared. Her climax intense, Mary biting one of her hands to stifle her screams so she would not awaken the entire palace. Moving off of him, she collapsed upon the bed, tangling herself within the bedclothes, exhausted and content, lying beside him. "Are you an angel?" She asked quietly. 

Edward smiled. "Why do you ask?" 

"Because I have been to heaven." She replied. 

He laughed at that, a low rich sound, proud and immensely pleased. "Crawl in bed and sleep now, Sweetheart." 

"You will not leave me?" She asked as the pair, both still naked, slipped beneath the crisp sheets and duvet, Edward spooning her, his member nestling within the small of her back, one hand wrapped possessively about her waist, his face buried in her hair that fell against the pillows. 

"I will leave before my presence here in your bed will cause the most dreadful scandal. I promise."   
_________________________________________________________________________  
She awakened before him, just before dawn, the fading moonlight shining through the windows casting shadows upon his handsome face as he slept, his eyes finally fluttering open to meet hers. "Did you sleep well?" She asked being a wee bit uncertain if she enjoyed opening her eyes to find a man still in her bed, with her impending marriage she would have to get used to it. Certainly Franco would not wish to leave her before dawn given what she had heard about his amorous inclinations? If she was being honest with herself she had to admit that she rather liked waking up to find Edward Seymour, naked, beside her, finding it most comforting. 

"With you how could it be otherwise? I have to go but before I do I have a gift for you." 

"A gift? What manner of...?" She asked her voice trailing off. 

"Upon your back, Sweetheart." Edward instructed. 

Mary did as she was bid, watching her lover disappear beneath the bedclothes, feeling his mouth and rough cheeks upon the tender skin of her stomach, kissing a path southward. "Edward! What are you? Oh, Jesu!" She cried softly feeling his mouth fasten upon the intimate space between her thighs. That tongue! That marvelous tongue! Oh, God! What he was doing to her with it! She thought she would burst with the pleasure. Spreading her legs a wee bit wider, she reached down, threading the fingers of a hand into his hair, holding him there, pressing his head a fraction more against her, seeking more of the wonderfully delicious sinful pleasure he was affording her, looking at the lump beneath the covers, giggling then sucking in her breath when she felt a finger, then two, enter her, squeaking when he flicked the point of his tongue playfully against her, moaning when he nipped her, mewing when he sucked upon her, crying his name when he finally sent her over the edge as the pleasure burst about her as she climaxed. 

He popped up from beneath the covers, grinning wickedly, winking at her. "Good Morrow, Sweetheart." He said. "I have to leave before I am found in your bed and cause a most dreadful scandal." Reaching down he picked up her night rail, handing it to her. "Put this on. You do not wish to be found naked in your bed." 

Mary took the night rail slipping it over her head as he watched her, helping her slip it over her bum, pinching her bottom playfully. 

"Ned!" She admonished him, slapping away his hand. "You have become far too bold, Sir." She whispered. 

"You would not have me any other way, would you?" He shot back, scrambling for his robe, regretfully leaving Mary and the warmth of the bed, slipping it on. "I will see you in the chapel at Mass." He said, kissing the tip of her nose, tilting her chin up with his fingers, their eyes locking in the fading moonlight, his mouth descending upon hers, she could taste herself on his lips as he kissed her, the feeling so incredibly intimate in made her tremble. The kiss so tender and loving that it made her heart catch, she prayed that Don Franco would kiss her like this, especially when Edward kissed her chin lowering his head to nuzzle and nip at her neck. "Go back to sleep, Sweet Siren." He whispered. "Let Morpheus take you." Withdrawing from her he disappeared out of the room.   
_________________________________________________________________________  
"What were your intensions, My Lord, if not dishonorable?" Edward Seymour asked. 

"Is it dishonorable to wish to marry the lady?" Lannister shot back at the viscount. 

"It is when one would subject the young woman to all manner of sexual depravities given what is known of your proclivities, My Lord. His Majesty would not allow his eldest daughter to be involved in such act involving multiple partners. It is unnatural in the eyes of God and Man!" Edward barked. 

"As my property she would have belonged to me to do with as I saw fit." Lannister retorted. 

"His Majesty would disagree. His Majesty would never have agreed to the match. Your Lordship is far too old in years." Edward stated. 

"Not unusual. The lady would have learnt to enjoy the idea of entertaining two cocks, one in her pretty little cunt and the other between those lovely lips." Lannister grinned lasciviously at the thought. 

SMACK! "Watch your tongue, you disgusting piece of filth!" Edward barked at the earl. Hitting the Welshman in such a way to cause blood to begin to seep forth from his mouth. 

"Come now, Viscount Beauchamp, certainly you have entertained such fantasies. Or does a grasping and greedy New Man, as you, want her luscious cunt all to yourself?" Lannister taunted Edward. 

This time Edward's fist hit Lannister's nose, breaking it, blood gushing forth from his nostrils. 

"Shut up!" Edward growled. 

Behind him, Thomas Cromwell nodded to the guards who advanced on Lannister, dragging him down into the hideous bowls of the Tower of London, deep into the dungeons where they came to a room with an open door, revealing to James Lannister what he was to endure. 

Dear Holy God! 

Horrified, James struggled to flee, but guards held him tightly, dragging him toward the formidable instrument of iron and wood. 

Cromwell spoke evenly taking over some of the interrogation from Edward Seymour who stood nearby watching. "I want to know what you said to the Lady Mary, His Majesty's eldest daughter and when you said it. What were your intensions?" 

"I told you my intensions were honorable!" Lannister protested. 

Cromwell laughed harshly. "Honorable? It is not honorable to wish to share a lady with another man. Let alone one's sister. Incest is punishable by death, My Lord, in several manners. Put him upon the rack!" 

Lannister had been stripped of all but his braes. The guards tied his ankles by ropes to a roller at the base; his arms were stretched over his head with his wrists secured to a roller at the top. Time had no meaning to the earl now, only the pain and the terror. As the questioning began and the rack began to twist until his wrists and ankles became bloodied and swollen and his muscles and tendons ready to tear. Sweat cut his face, the taught skin of his abdomen felt as though the devil's knives were flaying it. 

Cromwell sniffed and came closer to the rack. "You told the Lady Mary that she was made to be fucked? By the likes of you?" He asked his voice deadly calm. "That you would have her upon her knees with your member within her mouth? You dared to say such things to the king's eldest child? Vile cur! How dare you!" 

Lannister opened his mouth to speak but he could only gasp and babble. Cromwell gave the signal to the torturers who turned the levers at each end of the platform. The roller turned and the ropes tightened. Lannister screamed as his limbs were stretched more and more until a gruesome popping sound rendered the room, his arm and leg bones being dislocated from their sockets. 

"All for the treasonous lust of a profoundly pretty young lady." Rich stated, clucking his tongue disapprovingly. 

"And committing vile incest with his sister." Cromwell added with a disgusted shudder, looking at Edward Seymour, the unspoken question hanging in the air. "Untie him and then throw him in his cell to await His Majesty's Pleasure." He added as the three courtiers stormed from the torture chamber.


	8. Chapter VIII

Prince: Ten minutes ago,   
I saw you I looked up when you came through the door my head started reeling   
you gave me the feeling the room had no ceiling or floor.   
Ten minutes ago, I met you, and we murmured our how do you dos   
I wanted to ring out the bells and fling out my arms and sing out the news.   
I have found her, she's an angel, with the dust of the stars in her eyes.   
We are dancing, we are flying, and she's taking me back to the skies!   
In the arms of my love, I'm flying, over mountain and meadow and glen.   
And I like it so well that for all I can tell I may never come down again.   
I may never come down to earth again.

Cinderella: Ten minutes ago, I saw you.   
You looked up when I came through the door.   
My head started reeling you gave me the feeling the room had no ceiling or floor.   
Ten minutes ago I met you and we murmured our How do you dos.   
I wanted to ring out the bells and fling out my arms and to sing out the news.

Prince: I have found her.  
Cinderella: I have found him, he's the light of the stars in my eyes.  
Prince: We are dancing  
Cinderella: We are flying  
Prince: And she's taking me back to the skies  
Cinderella: In the arms of my love, I'm flying over mountain and meadow and glen.  
Prince: And I like it so well that for all I can tell I may never come down again.  
Both: I may never come down to earth again.  
"Ten Minutes Ago" From the Rodgers and Hammerstein Musical, 'Cinderella' 

 

"Which one is she upon the dais?" A gentleman asked scanning the members of the English Royal family. 

"The one in the dark green gown?" The strikingly handsome swarthy man answered. 

"The one with the hair the color of burnished gold? Allah, Franco! The lass would have made you a fortune in the slave markets of Algiers. The bidding would have been quite competitive on that one. More so when word had gone about that she is the granddaughter of Their Most Catholic Majesties. The vizier would have delighted in the fact that a devout Catholic woman from the House of Trastamara was upon her knees sucking his cock every night had he had the fortune to purchase the girl. She is exquisite, the skin appears flawless, the color, and the eyes must be light colored, blue, grey or green would be my guess from this distance." Aramis, Franco's companion murmured in Arabic from the places in the back of the Great Hall as they prepared to be announced to the English Court. 

"Nay, Aramis! That pale beauty is mine! I will take her to wife and sire a brood of sons upon her. The King of England's terms of the marriage treaty are most satisfactory. It is worth the addition of a Royal English Dukedom and to sacrifice a portion of my fleet. Let the vizier find another luscious flame haired beauty for his harem!" 

"Ah! For a smile from any of these Venuses." A young man standing beside the two older men wistfully sighed. "These English women appear as angels, pale and pretty. Certainly some of the fairest women we have encountered in our travels." 

"Ah! The innocence of youth! You will learn, Diego, my son, that all the women of the world have their allure... and some of the men, as well!" Franco said with a wink. "The man near the dais for one, the one with the neat beard and moustache, not the ginger haired one but the dark blond..." 

"The tall one that is stealing a glance at your betrothed?" Aramis asked. "I rather like the look of the ginger haired man. The clean shaven one in the crimson doublet, mayhap a tad slender but..." 

"At least the blond is doing his best to practice discretion. Mayhap that is Viscount Beauchamp? His Majesty, King Henry's brother by marriage. The Lady Mary's erstwhile duenna, though I would not care to have my daughter placed within the care of a man that looks like Edward Seymour. His Majesty is only inviting trouble." Franco stated. 

"Though he could prove useful when you are away at sea." Aramis posed, caressing Franco's forearm, smiling. 

"Ah! There is that! I would not be so unfeeling as to leave my lady wife to pine away whilst I take my own pleasures upon a long sea voyage." Franco said, gently tugging his arm away from his lover's caress. 

"As long as they are discreet about it, which I imagine they would be. Viscount Beauchamp does have a reputation or so the English sailors have mentioned. No dreadful scandals to look forward to." Aramis said. "There is young Diego, here, to consider as well. Though with the lady's strict Catholic upbringing, I would imagine that she would be adverse in sharing a bed with a son by marriage no matter how good looking and charming he is." 

"Unless Diego makes himself irresistible and the lady cannot avoid a Near Occasion to Sin." Franco put in. "But I most sincerely doubt that would happen though one never knows. If the lady is curious enough, I would trust my betrothed's honor to Diego over any other man save Viscount Beauchamp. That is, of course, if I did allow the lovely young lady freedom to take a lover." 

"What of that incredibly good looking ginger haired gentleman in the crimson doublet. I hear he is quite chivalrous? "Aramis asked indicating the Earl of Durham. 

"I hear that he is also quite married." Franco parried back. 

"So is Viscount Beauchamp." Aramis said. 

"To a whore!" Franco stated. "You as well I both know that makes all the difference." 

"That it does." Aramis agreed. 

"I almost feel sorry for the man. Arriving and whisking his mistress away to wedded bliss. Though the Lady Mary does deserve every happiness after what she has suffered these past years. She needs the love, protection and position only a husband and a good marriage can afford her. I tend to give that to her no matter how unconventional it may prove to be in the future. At least now, she will have my complete devotion and fidelity. I know that you will not mind, Dear Aramis." Franco said watching his betrothed upon the dais. 

"Nay, Franco! I am honored to share you with such as her. All of Christendom recognizes her as the Heiress Presumptive to the English throne regardless of what King Henry says or does. You may be king one day providing that Queen Jane does not have a son." 

Franco laughed. "The First William was a bastard, as am I. Though he was Norman, I am the get of Philip the Fair and a dancer. I would be content to be the second or third gentleman in the land behind the king, the Prince of Wales. Another dukedom and a lovely bride. Drusilla and Lavinia will school her. I do not wish someone as fair as she terrified of the marriage bed. Though one would imagine Viscount Beauchamp has been a sufficient tutor where the likes of kissing and caressing if not a wee bit more are concerned. It would please me to teach her all the secrets of passion and desire, create my own personal courtesan, to be the envy of the court knowing that my good English Royal Wife is a lioness within our bedchamber. " 

"To share with Diego, Viscount Beauchamp or that handsome very married nobleman. He looks to devour her with his eyes." Aramis chuckled. 

"Better his eyes than his mouth within the court." Diego quipped. 

"The lady would not allow it. She would not dishonor her lord publicly. Now have all the captains arrived? We are prepared to enter the Hall with the gifts and the creatures." 

They took their places, cutting off their banter as a fanfare was sounded. 

"Don Franco, El Duque de Cadiz." The majordomo announced as the procession began. The court gasping as sailors from all corners of the globe dressing in their finest clothing carried in chest after chest filled with some treasure from the New World or the East into the hall along with various species of exotic animals. There were marmosets and tamarinds, lemurs from Madagascar, orangutans from Borneo, jaguars being led in wearing jeweled collars attached to gilded leather leads, cougars from the New World, A pair of white bears said to be taken from the top of the world, colorful parrots and macaws their feathers a rainbow of colors, a large anaconda snake. There were tigers and lions, rhinoceros, giraffes, a pair of elephants. There was a chieftain from one of the island tribes kitted out in his finery of feathers and hammered gold. A loin cloth covering his nether regions and bum, his legs bare, his feet clad in gold and leather sandals. He was accompanied by several tribesmen and women, their long and straight blue-black hair cascading down their backs covering their bare bosoms. 

From her seat upon the dais, Mary scanned all the sailors looking for her betrothed, more and more of them kept pouring into the Hall carrying more chests or one exotic creature or another. "There he is." She murmured as much to herself as to anyone upon spotting him between two other men, one a youth the other about the duke's age. His portrait had done him justice. In the flesh her husband-to-be was as devastatingly handsome. He was dressed in what appeared to be a black or midnight blue doublet decorated with diamonds and pearls accentuating his dark good looks. His skin baked a rich tan by the rays of the sun, his hair black as night, close cropped and wavy. His eyes, as he got closer, sparkled like two onyxes. She felt her heart catch in her chest. She would do her best to love him even though another man presently held her heart within his keeping. He was the sort of man a woman could easily love if Chapyus's reports and gossip were true, the mirror image of Edward Seymour. Franco was dark where Edward was light, his eyes, his hair, his complexion, indications of origins from a far distant shore of fantastical stories, exotic and seductive scents and creatures. Mary felt strangely drawn to it, wanting to unveil the secrets and learn more of this New World and portions of the Old that had been denied exploration to her natural curiosity. Marriage to this man would open the doors to so many new and exciting adventures. 

Don Franco approached the dais, making note of the inviting looks from some of the women of the court as he passed. If he cared to, he would have no want of mistresses. But Franco was not the sort of man to stray. He had gotten the entire devil out of him in his youth. Now he was prepared to settle down with an English Royal Bride and sire a brood of legitimate heirs and heiresses. He only had eyes for the young woman upon the dais, the neatly made flame haired beauty that was to be his wife. Catching her eye, he smiled broadly, showing his flashing white teeth and winked at her seeing her flush prettily at his flirtation enjoying how she lowered her eyes modestly a small smile playing about her mouth. How he ached to have a taste of those lips, Franco thought. How he ached for her, period. He had been too long without a woman. Aramis did not possess the same softness that a woman did. Franco ached to feel the soft pillows of her breasts crushing against his chest, the feel of what would probably be a nicely rounded bum cradled within his palms, the sweet taste of the place between her thighs. 

He would have to wait the passage of three Holy Days when the banns would be proclaimed before they could be wed. However, once they were formally betrothed he would take advantage of his rights. He could not wait to school her in the ways of Eros. 

"Your Grace of Cadiz! Your Grace of Cadiz! Welcome to England! Welcome to our court! We thank you most heartily for the tributes and gifts. We are in awe of your generosity to us and your betrothed spouse, our daughter, the Lady Mary." Henry VIII's booming voice cut into Franco's thoughts as he reached the dais, bowing low along with his companions, looking up as he raised, his eyes locking with those of his betrothed. 

Blue! Her eyes were the most marvelous color of Ceylon Sapphires. He could not resist smiling at her. The corners of his lips curling up in a roguish smile. 

"Your intended bride, Your Grace, our daughter, the Lady Mary." Henry stated, drawing Mary forward. 

"Your Grace." Mary said, curtseying, lowering her chin and eyes modestly, feeling heat steal into her face, the hungry look in Franco's eyes making her slightly nervous and aroused at the same time. She knew that look. Edward looked at her that way before he went to kiss her. 

"My Lady." His voice was a low caress. Taking one of her hands, bringing it to his mouth, kissing the top, nipping at the skin gently with his teeth, his tongue slipping from between his lips, the pointed tip flashing against her skin, releasing it, winking at her when their eyes met. "It is a pleasure to meet Your Ladyship. Your reputation for piety and virtue are known throughout Christendom. I am honored His Majesty the King, your father and His Imperial Majesty the Emperor have agreed to our union. I will do all that is within my power to make you happy and bring you much comfort as your Lord Husband. Let me begin by firstly by presenting Your Ladyship with a gift."He stated, waving a hand, motioning something or someone to come forward. 

Two women dressed in French court dress the lower portions of their faces veiled came forward they bowed before their new mistress with much reverence, keeping their eyes lowered. 

"These are two handmaidens for Your Ladyship, Drusilla and Lavinia. They are Conversos. I do hope that you will accept them into your service. As you will these two men that I rescued from a French galley." Franco added as two tall strapping Moors came forward dressed in their colorful native garb. "Ali and Mustapha will be honored to serve Your Ladyship." The two men bowed before Mary with a reverent flourish, their heads lowered with respect. Franco did not make it known to the court where the two handmaidens had come from. Certain people of the court would view the fact that they had been rescued from Carnal Bondage in a harem as a means to put about that the Lady Mary's household was licentious and immoral which was far from what he could surmise. "Drusilla and Lavinia will help Your Ladyship prepare for our impending nuptials. There are some ways and customs that please me that I would wish Your Ladyship to become familiar with before we are married. "Franco vaguely explained. He had heard rumors that the former princess was extremely curious and had a great passion for learning. Franco had all intensions to use that profound curiosity to his advantage. 

"Yes, Your Grace. I will do whatever Your Grace wishes." Mary replied, modestly. 

"Your daughter is most agreeable, Your Majesty." Franco commented to Henry. "One can see that she has been mostly gently raised." 

"She can be willful and stubborn." Henry said. "It is her Spanish blood, Your Grace, beg pardon." 

"We shall rub along famously, Your Majesty. As I do prefer a spirited filly to a more complacent mount. I do enjoy a bit of fire. I crave the warmth and have learnt not to get burnt. If I were adverse it would please me greatly to tame your willful filly, Your Majesty." 

"Ah, Your Grace, I know you shall. For when you do there will be jewels, plate and deeds to lands in the saddlebags and an English Royal title as a reward for you have well earned it." 

"Lord Beauchamp, you have spent long lengths in the Lady Mary's company, would you say that Her Ladyship is stubborn or willful?" Franco asked. 

Edward Seymour looked from the king to Don Franco. He dare not contradict the king. 

"I see, Your Lordship, I have placed you in a precarious position. Come out with it. I am certain that Your Lordship will not offend His Majesty with your honesty. If you displease him, I promise to fix your way, there are rubies as large as quail's eggs and red as robin's blood contained in one of the chests that I will be more that delighted to present to His Majesty upon your behalf." Franco said. 

"Thank you, Your Grace, the Lady can be stubborn and willful when the situation merits it." Edward replied honestly. 

Franco laughed. "I can see what His Majesty has entrusted the honor and virtue of Her Ladyship to Your Lordship's care. You are the consummate courtier, Viscount Beauchamp, that silver tongue of yours and your vast abilities will see you go far. I do hope that we can be friends, since we will become related through marriage within a short time. Mayhap we may enjoy a fine glass of Madeira one evening?" Best to get the lover upon his side, Franco knew that he would possibly be needing Edward's services when it came to the comfort of his bride in the future. 

"I am honored for the consideration, Your Grace." Edward replied. "Provided His Majesty does not have need of me." 

"Of course not, Your Lordship. I would not think of impeding upon your commitment to His Majesty nor the services with which he needs Your Lordship to perform. "   
Henry smiled well pleased with Franco's answer. "Come now, Your Grace. Let us know the gentlemen beside you. We would know of all the brave mariners that have brought us these riches and fantastical creatures from far across the seas in the New World and Algiers." 

"As Your Majesty wishes. May I make known to you, my son, Don Diego Hapsburg and my one of the captains of my fleet, Aramis Lucco?" Franco asked the king.   
"We are pleased to make your acquaintance, Don Diego. Your grandsire and sire have passed along their good looks to you, I see. I trust that you must have a way with women even in your youth. You must have a sweetheart in every port." Henry teased Don Diego as was his way. He liked the look of the young man. 

"Thank you, Your Majesty. I have not traveled the world yet to constitute a woman in every port but I am working upon it." Diego responded. 

Henry burst out laughing, it sounding throughout the court. "Several at court, as well, I would warrant. Do not venture to shock your new mother she is liable to faint dead away being unfamiliar of the ways of men. We cannot have that, now can we, Diego?" 

"No, Your Majesty. I would never endeavor to bring distress upon Her Ladyship. I would endeavor to do all that is in my power to please her, as a good son should, Sire." Diego replied looking up at Mary, his eyes sparkling with flirtation. Wishing he was within his father's shoes. Having an older bride may have served to settle him. He would give up all the women in all the ports for just one night with her, pondering if the color of her hair was any indication of her nature. Was she as fiery? Alas, he would not be the one to discover the answer to that. His father would be, at thirty-four the man was in his prime and would most certainly be able to please a young filly such as the Lady Mary in the marriage bed. 

"Spoken like a true courtier, Don Diego." Henry complimented the young man watching his daughter's reaction to the young man. She had modestly lowered her eyes, the long lashes sweeping over her cheeks. If she were anything like her mother, she would be able to handle him no matter how close they happened to be in age. "Your Grace would you do us the honor of introducing us to your gallant captains and make it known to us what manner of creatures and riches that you have brought." Henry announced his attention focusing upon Franco. 

"It would be my pleasure, Your Majesty!" Franco replied, motioning the captains to come forth to meet the King of England.   
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
James Lannister and his sister, the Lady Celeste still languished within the Tower. The earl's legs were swollen and virtually broken from racking. The man could barely walk. His handsome visage, once an object of much swooning by the women of the Court, was almost indiscernible under the bruises and caked blood especially about his nose and mouth where several teeth had been knocked out when one of the torturers had struck him during an interrogation. 

Lady Celeste had not fared well, herself, in her prison. The guards had been particularly lewd and dreadful especially when Thomas Cromwell and Sir Richard Rich made it known as to what the charges leveled against her were. The men had taken advantage of Celeste, forcing her to perform lewd acts upon them for their amusement. They thought their treatment justified considering what she had got about to with her brother. There was no sympathy for a woman that many of the men that worked in the precepts of the Tower believed to be devil's spawn. 

With Don Francos's arrival, the king had debated as to whether or not Lord Lannister's trial would be private or public. Justice had to be metered out within the precepts of the Tower or in a public forum at Tyburn. Cromwell and Rich had advised that the earl's punishment fit his crime of treason, that it be performed in public as an example. His daughter, regardless of her status in England, was still much respected in Christendom and was viewed as the legitimate heiress to the English Crown by Catholic Europe. Nothing should besmirch her honor or reputation. The public execution would show Europe that the king was not soft on traitors such as Lord Lannister. The man truly deserved a grisly end for the citizens of London to view. 

His trial was set for five days hence at Westminster Hall. To be presided over by His Grace, the Duke of Norfolk as Earl Marshal of England.

Henry sat in his Presence Chamber debating what to do with his daughter. She would be safe within the court this time. What with her intended husband, his son, Viscount Beauchamp and her male relations about. There was also the Earl of Durham, who had made it quite clear his loyalty to the king which extended to the Lady Mary also his cousin. The king chuckled, remembering the look of dismay that had been upon Durham's features when the devilishly handsome half-Moorish Duke of Cadiz and he had become acquainted. Henry had given his permission for the duke to teach Mary several customs before she and Franco married. Customs that she was presently learning of which if His Majesty knew he would be slightly shocked. For under the auspices of Drusilla and Lavinia, Franco had begun his bride's sexual education.   
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
Mary stood nervously between Drusilla and Lavinia as Diego stepped from behind the trifold screen with just an Egyptian cotton towel wrapped about his waist falling to just about his knees covering his nether regions. The youth approached the women. His eyes dancing mischievously, he was proud of his body and enjoyed displaying it to the three women especially the student. 

He stopped just in front of Mary, lifting a hand, running the back sensuously slow down a side of her face from a temple, down the side of her face, her neck to skim beneath the robe that she wore dancing his fingers over a breast, his fingers teasing a nipple until it hardened with desire. 

"Well done, My Lady. You cannot be squeamish or exhibit fear when your husband touches you intimately. If you do not enjoy it His Grace will smell it like dogs smell fear. He will hate you for it." Drusilla comment watching Diego's dip lower into Mary's robe as his other hand ventured within the opening below the belt skimming along the smooth firm skin of a thigh, between her legs, his index finger slipping beneath her curls to tease her sensitive nub of flesh, his head dipping to kiss her temple, moving down the side of her face as he murmured endearments in Spanish and Italian, nipping at her earlobe as his talented finger continued to work upon her between her legs. 

"No...no... I cannot... I cannot do this! This is incestuous and wrong. Please... "Mary cried pulling away from Diego's touch, her face flushed with embarrassment and shame. 

"You did not find what Don Diego was doing to you distasteful, My Lady?" Lavinia asked watching her new mistress with some concern. 

"Yes... I... The fact that Don Diego was touching me intimately? Yes!" Mary replied. 

"But you did not find the touching distasteful regardless of whom it was that was arousing you?" Drusilla asked. 

"What if it were I that was touching you, Mi Cara?" Franco asked coming out from behind and arras; he had been listening and watching Mary's reactions to Diego's touch. He was dressed in a cloth of gold robe embroidered with Imperial eagles upon it. It was obvious when he approached that he was naked beneath. Diego stepped further away from Mary as his father approached. "What if I touched you like this?" He asked, mimicking what his son had done, feeling her warm to his touch, he could feel her breath catch with desire as his finger worked against her little nub.

It was not at all unpleasant, Mary thought. He smelt of musk, exotic spices and sunshine, his lips scorching her skin where he kissed her, a soft moan of pleasure escaping her lips as her betrothed continued to kiss and caress her. She closed her eyes, another man's handsome visage appearing behind her eyelids, deep navy eyes not brown, dark blonde hair not black. She tried to will it away but to no avail. She could not forget about Edward even in the arms of man that was to be her husband. What was the matter with her? She asked herself. Even though she married Franco would she forever belong to Edward Seymour?   
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
He found her later that afternoon, she was outside in the gardens underneath an oak tree still embroidering the shirt for him that she had been working on at Richmond Palace. 

"Your Ladyship, I would speak with you. In private." Edward said, approaching her, she was surrounded by her women, Edward made note that the two women Franco presented her with were sitting close to their new mistress. 

"Is there something amiss?" Mary asked, laying aside his shirt, rising, taking the arm that Edward offered. "I will not be long." Mary called after her women as Edward hustled her over to the entrance to the maze that was nearby. "What is it that you had to say to me?" Mary asked once they had entered the maze away from prying eyes. 

"How do you find your betrothed?" Edward asked. 

"I only met him but five days ago. That is not that much time to form an opinion, My Lord." Mary replied. 

"I hear he visits your chamber in broad daylight." Edward accused. 

"Are you jealous? Must I remind you that he is to be my husband?" Mary said. 

"How could I forget? For all his reputation and swashbuckling ways, he does not appear to be all that bold. If I were His Grace I would have pulled you into my arms and kissed you in front of the entire court. " 

"Would you be courteous enough to provide me with a demonstration?" Mary asked, flirtatiously. Squealing in delightful surprise as he pulled her roughly into his arms, kissing her passionately, his mouth taking possession of hers. 

"One more night, give me one more night." He asked between his kisses against her lips, her chin, her jaw, his hands running frantically up and down her back. 

"Yes." She answered breathlessly. "One more night."


	9. Chapter IX

You look into my eyes  
I go out of my mind  
I can't see anything  
Cos this love's got me blind  
I can't help myself  
I can't break the spell  
I can't even try

I'm in over my head  
You got under my skin  
I got no strength at all  
In the state that I'm in

And my knees are weak  
And my mouth can't speak  
Fell too far this time

[Chorus:]  
Baby, I'm too lost in you  
Caught in you  
Lost in everything about you  
So deep, I can't sleep  
I can't think  
I just think about the things that you do (you do)  
I'm too lost in you  
(Too lost in you)

ooh  
Well you whispered to me  
And I shiver inside  
You undo me and move me  
In ways undefined  
And you're all I see  
And you're all I need  
Help me baby (help me baby)  
Help me baby (help me now)

Cos I'm slipping away  
Like the sand to the tide  
Flowing into your arms  
Falling into your eyes  
If you get too near  
I might disappear  
[ From: http://www.elyrics.net ]  
I might lose my mind

[Chorus:]  
Baby, I'm too lost in you  
Caught in you  
Lost in everything about you  
So deep, I can't sleep  
I can't think  
I just think about the things that you do (you do)  
I'm too lost in you  
(Too lost in you)

I'm going crazy in love for you baby  
(I can't eat and I can't sleep)  
I'm going down like a stone in the sea  
Yeah, no one can rescue me  
(No one can rescue me)

Oooh, my baby  
Oooh, baby, baby

[Chorus:]  
Baby, I'm too lost in you  
Caught in you  
Lost in everything about you  
So deep, I can't sleep  
I can't think  
I just think about the things that you do (you do)  
I'm too lost in you

I'm lost in you  
I'm lost in you  
I'm lost in everything about you  
So deep (so deep), I can't sleep  
I can't think  
I just think about the things that you do (you do)  
I'm too lost in you  
(Too lost in you)

 

"Are you mad? You allowed them one last night before you marry the lady yourself? What if he takes her maidenhead? Plants his seed within in her that results in a child? What then?" Aramis asked Franco.   
"I will recognize any child she presents to me as mine. Aramis, I know that she would hate me if I prevented it. No matter that it is within my rights to do so. Viscount Beauchamp is so desperately in love with her even though he tries to mask his true feelings and his all consumable passion for her. It simmers below the surface. Poor man! In the presence of the king and unable to tell his monarch how he truly feels. Though she will fall in love with me, she will never be able to completely exorcise her love for him in my arms nor that of another lover. Just as I will fall in love with her, I will always crave your touch and your staff." Franco insisted, reaching down to caress his lover, stroking Aramis's length until he moaned with pleasure.   
"You will allow her to entertain him when you venture to sea?" Aramis asked, thrusting his hips up as Franco continued to caress him.   
"Absolutely. It is completely unfair to have her pining for me and in agony because she cannot have the handsome viscount. Though if he is ever unavailable I am most certain that the delectable Earl of Durham would be delighted to take Edward Seymour's place."   
"Will the lady object?" Aramis asked. "Pity he does not appear to be inclined toward gentlemen."   
"Nay, he does not. He has an eye for and a way with women. He wants one woman in particular."Franco replied continuing to stroke Aramis, moving over to kiss his lover's chest, caressing his nipples until they became taut peaks, moving down the other man's hard body using his mouth and hands to create the desired effect, making the handsome mariner sigh with pleasure.   
"Yours."   
"Aye." Franco answered grinning. "I should make certain that Viscount Beauchamp keeps that ginger haired fox out of my hen's house but, alas, that wily beast may venture in and have his way with my pretty chick at some point. He seeks to devour her. "   
"What of Diego?"   
"She would not have him. Even though her body enjoys his touch. He has yet to taste her. She will never allow it. Wanting me in his stead whilst Drusilla and Lavinia are tutoring her. Not that it distresses me, of course. She is a delicious armful, full of fire, curiosity and innocence. They have proven to be a potent combination." Franco explained. "She rightly views any interaction between herself and Diego other than that which a mother would engage in with the son of her husband as incestuous and unlawful. My Precious Jewel is does have morals."   
"Which are overlooked because Viscount Beauchamp's wife is as a common doxy from the stews? Bedding any man she pleases without respect to her marriage vows! Poor man! Your Precious Jewel would never consent to joining us?" Aramis asked.   
"Tut, tut, Armais! I am appalled that you would even consider it. Do not tell me that you are interested in enjoying a lady? I thought that I was enough to satisfy you." Franco teased, before taking his lover's engorged member within his mouth to suck upon it.   
"You are, my dear Franco. Oh, Dios Mio! You most certainly are! Forget I ever suggested it!" Aramis said, tossing his head back upon the pillows to enjoy the ministrations of his lover's talented mouth.   
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
He knew he took a chance being there but he could not stay away from her. He needed her, he needed to feel the soft pillows of her breasts crush against his naked chest when he drew her into an embrace, smell the exotic combination of jasmine and roses that was her perfume, catch himself within the cloud of her mass of loose red-gold curls.   
She was sitting near the fireplace, in which burned a blazing fire, the flames leaping up the chimney casting dappled light within the room. Dressed in a low cut full sleeved night rail, the thin lawn almost transparent, he could see the outline of her body in the light from the candles and the fire. The sight of her made the organ between his legs swell. God! How he wanted her!   
Sensing someone's presence in the room, Mary looked up from the copy of Sir Thomas Mallory's Morte D'Arthur that she was reading watching as he stepped from the shadows. "Are you prepared to do more reading together, My Lord Beauchamp?" She asked. "Or did you have another pastime that you wished to engage in this evening? I have taken the liberty to begin Mallory's Morte D'Arthur. Pray, it does not distress you that I have done so without you?"   
"You have decided upon tales of King Arthur, his knights and gallantry, Sweetheart? Bored so soon with the Eastern tales of Scheherazade? Wishing for the comfort and pleasure of Good English knights and chivalry?" Edward asked, walking toward her, a smile playing about his chiseled lips, his deep navy eyes twinkling in the candlelight and the flames from the fire.   
"I know what you are implying, Edward. Jealousy does not suit you." Mary said, looking up at him. "Wipe that smug look off of your face."  
"I thought that you rather fancied it when I looked smug, Sweetheart." He shot back, his eyes still twinkling, reaching her, he drew her up into his arms, brushing a lock of burnished gold hair from a temple, looking down into her face, he chuckled.   
"I do, you wicked and naughty man! God help me, but I do! Now come draw a chair near the fire and read with me."   
"I had something far more intimate in mind than reading."   
"So you do have some other pastime in mind? Shall I hedge a guess or will you be kind enough to tell me?"   
"I am going to kiss you senseless and that is only the beginning." He explained, still smiling.   
"What else do you intend to do?" She asked, with wide-eyed innocence.  
Arching a brow over an eye, his smiled turned wolfish. "Go on and hanker a guess or would you care for me to describe it to you?"  
"Every deliciously naughty detail? I would prefer that you show me, Edward." Mary said, sweetly. Her eyes taking an inventory from the top of his head to the tips of his polished black leather boots, they glittered with desire in the candle and fire light. "Kiss me senseless, Edward." She added, lifting her chin, offering her lips to him, her voice warm and husky.   
Dipping his head slightly, his mouth took possession of hers in a searing and passionate kiss, pulling her close against him. Her breasts crushing against his hard chest, his hands running up and down her back, skimming over the place where her buttocks began to swell, down over the plump mounds of her deliciously rounded bum caressing the moons of flesh through the thin fabric of her night rail, chuckling against her mouth when she wriggled suggestively against him, feeling her warm beneath his touch, nipping at his lower lip playfully. "Naughty lady!" He teased. "Do I have to take you over my knee?"   
"Would you like to?" She asked saucily using some of the tricks Drusilla and Lavinia had taught her. Dancing her fingers down his front, the tips shyly caressing him. "You could draw me down in the chair here near the fireplace." She suggested.   
"What if I drew you to the bed?" He asked.   
"To chastise me?"   
"If you wish. I was thinking of something more intimate."   
"Are you hungry?" She asked, blushing fiercely when she saw the look upon his face confirming that he was.   
"I could devour you." He replied, his lust and desire for her written all over his handsome face.   
"Could you?" She asked. "Eat me all up then?"   
"Every precious inch especially that wonderfully sensitive place between those lily-white thighs. Would you straddle my head again, Sweet Siren?"   
"If it would please you." She replied honestly. Not resisting when he loosened his grip upon her, coaxing her toward the large four poster bed.   
"What would please you, My Precious Darling?" Edward asked drawing her down upon the bed.   
"For you to make me feel as though I am the only woman in the world. That you desire me above all earthly possessions, pastimes and pleasures. Show me Paradise once more, My Dearest Ned." Yes! Show me Paradise once more. Let me find exquisite pleasure in your arms before I go to my marriage bed, she thought wriggling onto the bed pulling her night rail up about her thighs, watching him as he began shedding his clothing, boots first, then his jerkin all falling in a neat pile near the bed upon a nearby brocaded stool.   
"Shall I help you?" She asked, eager to see him naked, she began pulling upon his shirt not waiting for an answer kissing each bit of his skin as it was revealed to her making him chuckled with pleasure and happiness. She would soon belong to another man but he knew that a part of her would always be his!   
"Eager, aren't you? When did you become so shameless?" His asked her with one of those heart melting smiles.   
"What you introduced me to passion." She replied yanking his shirt over his head. She wanted to remember this and their other times together. "You were the first man to kiss me." Taking his hands in hers, she guided then to her thighs, to the gossamer thin fabric of her night rail that was bunched up about them. Lifting her bum, helping him lift the garment over her head, shaking her head, the mass of her hair falling about her now naked body in a cloud of burnished gold, smiling with pleasure when their eyes met. The look upon his face sending shards of molten desire through her, settling between her legs, making her ache with longing. Helping him remove the rest of his clothing until so he was as naked as she, letting him lay down before straddling his head with her front facing his feet, lowering herself over his mouth, gasping with pleasure as the hairs from his neat beard tickled the tender skin of her inner thighs, leaning down, stretching herself over him, teasing his hips and groin with her breasts before she took his hard member within her mouth to suck upon him as he teased her intimately with the flat of his tongue, giggling in delight when she heard him moan.   
"Sweet Jesu!" He groaned against her his breath hot against her sweet wetness.   
She reveled in the feel of his beard and moustache against her, moaning while she continued to suck him, undulating her hips against him, things escalating rather quickly until she shattered her climax intense. She moved off of him, coming up to him, Edward rolling her onto her back, moving between her thighs which spread further apart to accommodate him. "Ned! Please!" She pleaded feeling his shaft sliding against her hard little jewel that still managed to throb. "Ned..." Her voice was breathless and hoarse with her need, bucking her hips against his indicating what she wanted from him, she could not wait any longer.   
"Are you certain, Sweetheart?" He asked, feeling her move against him, all of his iron self control and common sense quickly slipping away.   
"She nodded, mutely, her eyes staring into his. "Please!" Her voice a breathless plea, thrusting her breasts and pelvis against him, making it clear what she desired.   
That proved his undoing. He thrust into her, Mary gasping in pain and surprise at the feel of her first invasion.   
"It hurts." She complained as the sharp burning pain radiated from her now pierced maidenhead down her thighs for a few agonizing moments.   
"Just for a moment, My Darling, then I promise it will get better." He replied, leaning forward to kiss one of her temples, letting her get accustomed to the feel of him inside her. God! She was so very tight. He thought. The walls of her passage encasing him like a velvet clad vice. He moved out of her, slowly at first, not wishing to afford her any more pain than was necessary. "Does it still pain you?" He asked, concerned attempting to ease the initial discomfort away with a few gentle strokes of his member inside her tightness trying to get her used to his length and the pleasure it could afford her.   
"A little." She replied honestly, instinctively lifting a leg to wrap about one of his hips, she gasped, feeling the discomfort slowly begin to change to ecstatic pleasure as he moved within her, Mary wrapping her other leg about his other hip. "Oh!" She gasped once again, feeling him on all sides of her passage as her sheath instinctively began tightening about him slowly with each movement of his shaft inside her, clamping about him as he afforded her the most wonderfully delicious and exquisite pleasure she had yet to know.   
"All better now?" He asked, concern etched against his face, his brows furrowing.   
"Yes, better now." She replied, arching her back up against him, as the pain gradually subsided to be replaced by ecstatic pleasure, wanting more of him, brushing her breasts teasingly against his chest, dancing her hands up and down his sides, making his skin tingle as Mary got used to the rhythm of the organ plundering her sweetness so that soon she was moaning and whimpering by turns as things quickly rose between them to a fever pitch.   
Mary opened her eyes, she could not seem to focus, the room was all a blur as Edward pulled her down into a vortex of sensual pleasure. Mary cried his name over and over as she felt herself climbing higher and higher, feeling her stomach muscles tensing and contracting, the heat pooling in her core, curling about her abdomen. She bit her lower lip, closing her eyes, her finger nails raking down his back, pressing her buttocks into the mattress. She felt her soul being torn from her body as her world shattered into a thousand colorful stars, gasping as she experienced her first vaginal climax as a scant few moments later, Edward's tribute flooded her womb as he, too, experienced an intense orgasm, his body shuddering against her as the tremors of his climax gradually subsided, collapsing atop her, his chest crushing against her breasts, bending his head to plant tender and loving kisses over her lips, her, cheeks, the line of her jaw, the tip of her nose. "You had possessed my heart. Now you possess my very soul. I love you." He murmured tenderly against mouth.   
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
James Lannister sat in his cell in the darkness upon his bed. Sleep seemed to elude him. He was terrified. Cromwell and Rich had arrived with a serpent that His Grace the Duke of Cadiz had obtained upon his last voyage to the New World. The creature was massive, long and thick, possibly the largest animal James had ever seen. The two courtiers had allowed the beast to slither about James's cell, cornering him at one point. Thank God and all His saints that the animal had recently feasted as shown by the large bulge in its middle or else James was certain that the Secretary and the Chancellor would have fed his broken body to the creature. They were most certainly amused to see him so terrified taunting him with words. His trial was set for two days hence where he would soon know his fate. God Grant that it would be not as gruesome as the fate of the serpent which the gentlemen had taken out and slaughtered, decapitating the creature after it had bitten one of the guards. Fitting end to an animal that most certainly came from the bowels of hell or near to it.   
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
"Is it like this every time?" She asked him breathlessly, her body still throbbing after their second bout of love making.   
He grinned, chuckling. "Like what?"   
"The burning hot passion. Will I experience it with every man?"   
"Erm... Not bloody likely." He replied, kissing her forehead, pulling her close.   
Mary's hands poised about his chest, her fingertips brushing tentatively against his skin looking down at her lover's naked body in the candle and firelight a dark mark upon his skin catching her eye. "What is this?" She asked looking down between them tracing the bit of raised skin above his left hip, sliding down his body for a closer look, propping herself up on her elbows as she peered even closer.   
"A birthmark, all the men in my father's family have it, my father, me, Thomas, Henry. All the men in my father's family had it before him and all the sons that my brothers and I will sire will be born with it afterward. It is called the Seymour Sword."   
"Quite an apt name for such a mark since you are so adept at wielding the two that you possess, one on the battlefield and the other within the bedchamber with such great skill." Mary remarked. "Are Thomas and Henry just as adept at wielding theirs?"   
Edward growled, lifting her up, rolling her over upon her back before she knew what was happening, making her squeal in alarm as he nuzzled and nipped at her neck. "I would kill them both if they ever laid a hand upon you. You said yourself that Thomas would make you miserable being the rake and the rogue that he is. Henry is still a green boy. That leaves you with me, you wicked wench!" He declared, the hairs of his neat beard tickling her making her giggle. "Shhhhh... Would you care to wake the palace with that noise and cause a dreadful scandal?" He added, teasingly, reaching down to tickle one of her sides with a hand, covering her mouth with the other to stifle another squeal of surprised and the giggles that followed.   
"Then I am the most fortunate of women." She declared when he had removed his hand.   
"As well you should be, Sweetheart." Edward said, with a grin, his white teeth flashing in the fire and candle light, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Now get some sleep. You may be a bit sore and tender in the morning. There will not be too much discomfort." Edward said, nestling in beside her. The two soon drifting off into the land of Morpheus.  
He awoke just before dawn, dressing quickly, watching her stir awake. "I have to go. I dare not chance being discovered here." He explained, handing her the discarded night rail which she quickly scrambled into. "How do you feel?" He asked, concerned, watching her ease out of the bed.   
"A wee bit sore but it was worth every pleasurable moment." She replied, allowing him to pull her toward him to kiss her, maneuvering her to the door, kissing her and murmuring tender lover's words by turns, regretful to leave but know that he had to for both their sakes. Kissing her quickly as he opened the door. The light from the torches in the palace hallway illuminating their silhouettes against the oak paneled wall.   
Thomas Durham quickly made his way from Lady Ursula Misseldon's rooms which were situated near those of other prominent ladies of the Household because of her relationship with His Majesty the King. He had spent the previous evening enjoying the lady's bountiful charms imagining she was someone else as he fucked the pretty dark blonde senseless after only one bout. Leaving Ursula in an exhausted sleep not bothering to say farewell especially when he had shouted Mary's name when he had climaxed. Ursula had been furious, Tom sneaking out as she slept to avoid and repercussions from the slut. Pausing for a moment when he heard hushed voices, a low masculine chuckle. A man was saying farewell to his mistress in the early morning darkness. Durham gasped low when he recognized who the lovers were.   
Viscount Beauchamp was standing outside the Lady Mary's chamber door holding her in what only could be described as an intimate embrace, kissing her passionately.   
"Come back to bed, Edward." Tom heard Mary attempt to cajole the viscount. "For an hour. The palace will not begin to stir for another two."   
"Temptress!" Tom heard Edward reply. "I would desire to but we both know I cannot. Give me one more kiss farewell, My Dearest Sweetheart. I promise to be in the chapel later."   
"Leaning up, Mary kissed him as Durham watched the pair, standing transfixed in the hallway near and alcove, imagining himself in Edward Seymour's place. Watching as with one last kiss the Lord Beauchamp released her and headed toward his own rooms in the palace.   
Mary went back to bed to be awakened by Drusilla and Lavinia, gasping when she saw the virgin's blood upon the bed sheet. "Oh, nooooo." She cried in dismay.   
"Shhhh... No shame in enjoying yourself before marriage, My Lamb." Lavinia soothed as the two women brought a tub in. Ali and Mustapha carrying ewers of water as the two women began to strip the bed after the tub was laid before the fireplace which the women applied more wood to, stoking it so the flames leapt once more. They took the sheet and lay it within the flames. Destroying the evidence of Mary's previous evening's carnal pleasure.   
Ali and Mustapha poured the water into the tub.   
"Viscount Beauchamp pleased you?" Thomas Durham had not been the only one to observe Edward's passionate farewell outside Mary's chamber door in the early morning darkness.   
"Yes." Mary answered honestly, knowing that she could be unashamed with these two women. She blushed.   
"He is quite virile and passionate, I would warrant. Such a contrast to what he presents to the world. Take this..." Lavinia said handing Mary a cup. "The potion should prevent conception."   
Mary drank the bitter liquid down biting into the sweet strawberry that was handed to her to counter the taste allowing the women to remove her night rail and help to ease her into the tub. "The stiffness and slight discomfort will subside after this hot bath. A small price to pay for a night in Paradise, eh?" Drusilla asked Mary with a wink.   
Mary could only nod her assent, blushing once again, sighing with pleasure as she felt the warmth of the water against her skin totally unaware that Edward may have left her with a most precious gift.


	10. Chapter X

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you  
It's strange what desire will make foolish people do  
I'd never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you  
I'd never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you

No I don't want to fall in love (this girl is only gonna break your heart)  
No I don't want to fall in love (this girl is only gonna break your heart)  
With you  
With you (this girl is only gonna break your heart)

What a wicked game you played to make me feel this way  
What a wicked thing to do to let me dream of you  
What a wicked thing to say you never felt this way  
What a wicked thing to do to make me dream of you

And I don't want to fall in love (this girl is only gonna break your heart)  
No I don't want to fall in love (this girl is only gonna break your heart)  
With you

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you  
It's strange what desire will make foolish people do  
I'd never dreamed that I'd love somebody like you  
I'd never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you

No I don't want to fall in love (this girl is only gonna break your heart)  
No I don't want to fall in love (this girl is only gonna break your heart)  
With you (this girl is only gonna break your heart)  
With you (this girl is only gonna break your heart)

No I...(this girl is only gonna break your heart)  
(This girl is only gonna break your heart)-   
"Wicked Games" as sung by Chris Isaak 

James Lannister was taken from his cell, placed in a chair because he could no longer walk on his own, carried by four large burly Yeomen Warders to the barge that would be rowed to Westminster Hall for his trial. The day was gray and chilly; the dampness from the River Thames sank into James's limbs, making his joints ache.   
The Warders placed the Earl roughly in the barge, taking their positions as the barge was pushed away from the quay rowing toward Westminster.   
Thomas Howard, the Duke of Norfolk had been appointed Lord High Steward of England a temporary office only conferred to Great Lords for the purpose of organizing coronations or presiding over trials of peers who were customarily tried in the Court of the High Steward.   
James Lannister was carried into Westminster Hall and arraigned for high treason. The charges against the accused being read:   
That James, Earl of Merioneth had intent to seduce and violate the Lady Mary, His Majesty's daughter, to have carnal knowledge of her. That he had attempted to procure her favors by lewd words, gestures and deeds. That he had wished to take the Lady Mary as his fourth spouse, to corrupt her. The he had engaged in the most unnatural lewd acts and carnal behavior with the Lady Celeste, His Lordship's own sister, most detestable against the law of God and nature, also."   
"My Lord Lannister you have heard the grievous charges against Your Lordship's person. How dost thou plead?" Norfolk as Lord High Steward of the Court as the prisoner.   
"Not guilty." Lannister rasped, his voice rendered raw by screaming during his torture. James would not plead guilty to charges leveled against him the other members of the court, he felt, were guilty of, though had not been charged. The king's brother by marriage for one, Viscount Beauchamp, Lannister was certain that Edward Seymour was more than the Lady Mary's protector.   
"How will you be tried?" The question was fired at the earl.   
"By God and the country."   
The jury was then sworn in, many familiar faces including Viscount Beauchamp and the Earl of Durham. Both men said to have tendered affections for the King's eldest daughter.   
The evidence against the Earl of Merioneth was read from sworn statements by members of those that attended upon the Lady Mary, Her Majesty, the Queen Jane's Grace, witnesses in the Great Hall that evening. As to the unnatural relationship with his sister, Lady Celeste, statements from members of respective households. Some of the testimony so lurid and shocking several ladies in the galleries observing the trial fainted and had to be removed.   
Finally the court was adjourned and the jurors retired to reach a verdict. The jurors did not keep the court waiting for long. They were back within the hour filing into the courtroom.   
"My Lord Durham have you reached a verdict?" Norfolk asked the earl who had acted as foreman being a close relation to the king it was only right and fitting that he should do so.   
"Yes, Your Grace. We have."   
"What is said verdict?"   
"Guilty and he should die." The blade of the axe that had preceded Lannister's entry into the hall was now turned toward him.   
Norfolk pronounced the sentence: James Lannister, you are to be taken to the place from whence you came; from there to be dragged through the City of London to the place of execution called Tyburn. There to be hanged, cut down while still alive, your privy parts to be cut off and your bowels to be taken out of your body and burnt before you, your head to be cut off and our body divided into four parts, the head and quarters to be set at such places the king will assign. May God have mercy upon your soul!"   
Lannister glared from his place at the Earl of Durham and Viscount Beauchamp who had sat in judgment but tendered the same affections for which he would lose his life. Durham had even pronounced the sentence. The hypocrite! James knew that the earl nursed a passion for the Lady Mary even though he was a married man, his countess preferring the country life not attending the court, giving the earl liberty to indulge in flirtations and Courtly Romances.   
Lanninster's thoughts were broken into by the rough hands that lifted his chair. The Yeomen Warders and the axe pointed toward him declaring him a condemned traitor closed about him as he was taken from the hall, to the barge that awaited him, to be rowed back to the Tower of London to be lodged until the king saw fit to carry out the sentence.   
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
"Oh, Sweet Jesu!" Mary breathed as Franco stroked the tip of the ostrich plume lightly against her naked torso. Her abdominal muscles tightening, her skin tingling with anticipation as he stroked the smooth pale skin, noting how it flushed, changing to from the color of the finest alabaster to the hue of pale pink roses, indicating her arousal, her eyes sparkling with pleasure as the feather danced down her body tracing about the perimeter of her navel, making her gasp with desire. "Franco... Franco, My Darling!" She whispered arching her back, thrusting her hips up to the source of the pleasure, the feather tracing along her hips, down over the tender skin between her navel and the red-gold curls that covered her Venus mont. This love play was exciting, playful. She was made for sensual pleasure; God had created her for the carnal delights found within the marriage bed. Edward Seymour had been the first to try her, introduce her to pleasure. His Lordship was sick with love for Henry Tudor's beautiful daughter. Franco, for all his desire for Aramis, completely understood Beauchamp's unnatural attraction and intense passion for the girl. She could arouse an eunuch as much as she could any normal man.   
"Let me, Your Grace. Please! Would the feather give you as much pleasure as I have received from it?" Mary asked.   
Franco grinned. He loved the fact that she as so intensely curious about so many things, eager to learn all she could. "Why do you not find out for yourself, My Love?" Franco asked, his grin broadening, showing very white even teeth against his deep complexion, handing her the feather. "Go ahead, My Angel. Do not be shy."   
Taking the feather, Mary danced it down his neck, swirling it over him as he lay upon his back against the pillows of the bed. "Like this?" She asked, the feather dancing about his chest, over his nipples which hardened, puckering with desire.   
"Yes! You are an adept pupil. Quick to learn." Franco commented. "Be as bold as you wish."   
Mary smiled, giggling, as she moved the feather over his taut flat abdomen watching the muscles ripple, the organ between his legs hardening and swelling with each caress, increasing in size with each swirl of the feather against his skin.   
Thomas Nicholls moved through the palace corridors to the Lady Mary's apartments upon His Majesty's Business. Fortunately after the morning incident several days past he had not had an opportunity to speak with her.   
Lady Ursula Misseldon had been taunting and tormenting him regarding his passion for the King's daughter, however. Especially since he had called out Mary's name when he had lain with Lady Misseldon, an evening that he now realized had been a dreadful mistake. Allowed admittance to the Lady Mary's apartments by the two strapping Moors that now stood guard, he made his way through her Presence Chamber noting that someone had dismissed her women, stopping in his tracks, catching sight of the sensual tableau before him.   
The princess and Don Franco lay upon Mary's bed, both as naked as they had come into this world, the lady upon her back, enjoying the attentions of her betrothed whose head was between her milky white thighs pleasuring her orally, his mouth, teeth and tongue appearing to be working their magic for the princess was moaning, keening and calling for her handsome dusky skinned lover by turns.   
Thomas closed his eyes imagining himself in the duke's place, wishing he was the man making her cry out her pleasure, tasting her intimate treasures. He would have her, he vowed to himself, in his bed, naked, crying for him as he must have cried for Edward Seymour that night and how she presently encouraged Franco Hapsburg. Soon, he thought before turning on his heel and leaving the apartments. The King's Business was not so urgent that he could not wait for a few minutes until Franco brought his betrothed to a shattering climax.   
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
"Oh My Goodness! This is quite scandalous!" Mary exclaimed as Drusilla put the finishing touches on her costume, placing the teardrop amethyst inside her navel. "Are you certain this is how the ladies dress in Algiers?" Mary asked smoothing the belt that hung low on her hips. Made of deep purple silk it was embroidered with silk thread in a pattern of various flowers set with precious gems, panels of sheer purple silk fell from it swirling about her thighs to her ankles, from breasts to hips her skin was bare. Her bosoms covered by a jeweled bra cut low, exposing most of her fine young breasts, jeweled and enameled flowers decorating it. Mary moved watching the jewels catch the sunlight pouring in the windows.   
"Yes, My Lady... erm, Your Grace." Lavinia replied. "You look beautiful. His Grace will be unable to take his eyes from you. The color suits you. There are more." She added drawing forth one in turquoise and gold. "Try this next!" She added excitedly.   
The two women helping Mary out of the first costume dressing her in the second which was far scantier than the first, the belt slung a bit lower on her hips. The turquoise silks spangled with gold dust, yellow diamonds and turquoises gently falling about her. The top, wrought in a pattern of gold, turquoise and yellow diamonds strategically covering her nipples.   
Drusilla came forward with a powder puff made of soft feathers dipping it in a pot of fragrant gold dust that she daubed all over her mistress leaving a soft gold sheen on her pale skin.   
"Your Grace, the Earl of Durham."   
Mary turned about looking for a robe to cover herself but she was not quick enough.   
He strode into the chamber, dressed all in midnight blue which set off his vivid coloring. She felt her heart catch as their eyes met. His gaze smoldering with desire taking in her costume, or lack thereof, appreciating every swell and contour. "A rather daring costume for a masque, Your Grace. You will be having all the gentlemen of the court seeking their confessor, afterward or worse." Thomas commented.   
"Do you think it quite daring? His Grace of Cadiz had it created for my trousseau to be worn in the privacy of our bedchamber." Mary explained.   
"You could lure a man to commit any number of sins dressed thusly. But it appears what one wears is not an issue."   
"My Lord?" Mary asked uncertain as to what he was alluding to then she remembered. "I am not the only one with a perchance for being in torch lit palace corridors during early morning hours. I at least keep my semi-nakedness confined to the privacy of my apartments."   
"That night rail was virtually transparent." Durham remarked.   
"You dare to pass judgment, My Lord Earl? I knew where you had come or from whom you had come, sir."   
"A mistake. A horrible, horrible mistake. There was another place I wanted to be that night but another had taken my place." He stated, plainly.   
"Where might that have been?" She asked.   
"I believe you know the answer to that, Your Grace." He answered, his blue-gray eyes meeting hers. "I could give you comfort and make you happy if you but let me. Give me leave to pleasure you. You would not be cajoling me back to bed because neither of us would wish to leave. I promise you that."   
"Are you good at keeping your promises?" She asked. What was the matter with her where she wished to banter and flirt? "Shall I inquire of Lady Misseldon?"   
"She is hardly a reliable source. Am I not honorable? Do you trust me?" He countered.   
"Do I have cause to?" She countered back.   
"Do you have cause not to?" He countered back once again taking several steps closer to her. She did not retreat but stood her ground.   
"No, My Lord. I have no cause to be wary of you." She replied.   
"I would be your champion if you allowed me to be."   
"Just my champion?" She asked.   
"Your Lover." He said, honestly.   
"I do not wish to take Lady Misseldon's leavings!"   
"Are you to forever to remind me of my folly? It is you I want, only you. You haunt my dreams at night and cloud my thoughts during the day. Let me..." He whispered his voice husky, his eyes sweeping over her delectable form, closing the space between them in another step, reaching out, tracing his fingertips over the bare skin of her chest.   
"I cannot." She stated, reaching up to stay his exploring finger tips. "If the situation was different between us..."   
"If it were not for Edward Seymour, you mean." He cut to the chase. "Shall I be bold like Viscount Beauchamp? Would you want me a little if took what I wanted? I know you like me, Mary. Would you care for me more if I was a bit more aggressive in my wooing? If I did something like this?" He asked, grasping her forearms, pulling her close against him, his mouth capturing hers, kissing her fiercely with great passion, his lips bruising hers, making her stagger backward when he released her, panting and breathless, her fingertips reaching up to caress her lower lip which tingled, her face flushed and burning. She swallowed nervously, her stomach muscles tightening and contracting, her eyes meeting his.   
"Well?" He asked, his eyes sweeping over her. He knew he had unsettled and aroused her from just looking at her. Oh, to tear that scanty costume from her body and carry her to the bed! She was so very ripe for the loving of a man. Her body was practically crying out for the intimate caresses and pleasure that a virile gentleman could afford her. Passionate Tudor Princess! For she was as hot blooded as her ancestor, Owen Tudor was reported to have been and he knew her father and aunts to be. Most certainly she had inherited some of that hot blood from their mutual Woodville ancestress, Edward IV's queen, Elizabeth.   
"Yes, My Lord if someone did not already possess my heart, I would be yours. But, I fear that you have come too late a wooing, Thomas." Mary said.   
"What must I do to change Your Grace's heart? Take it from his keeping and place it into mine?" He asked. "I would do all that you ask if you would but become my lady and mistress."   
"What would you do? Oh, Thomas, you have so much to recommend yourself." He was making this so incredibly difficult. Damn him!   
"Would you care to elaborate? Or must I hasten a guess or two? Is it the manner in which I take Your Grace?" He asked pulling her into his arms.   
Crying out in alarm she pushed at his chest. "Thomas! Thomas, please!"   
"Please what? Is it the manner in which I kiss, My Angel?" He asked, yanking her against him, swooping down to capture her lips with his once more, reaching beneath the layers of sheer silk, cupping the twin moons of her buttocks, lifting her up against a sideboard, bracing a palm against her lower back to hold her steady wedging her legs apart. Then insinuating his body between them, his mouth ravaging hers, his free hand roaming over her bare skin, slipping beneath the narrow belt near a hip, splaying long slender fingers against her upper thigh, the pad of his thumb caressing the soft tender skin of her inner thigh, between her legs ,until she was moaning with desire and in protest against his mouth.   
"No. I cannot." She said, barely holding onto the last vestiges of her resolve. He was so incredibly tempting!   
He read the turmoil on her face, the warring emotions and released her as any gentleman would when in the presence of a vulnerable woman, setting her back down upon her feet. "I will never stop trying. If Viscount Beauchamp ever mistreats or misplaces that heart you so graciously placed into his keeping you know where to find me. I will be more than willing to tend to any damage he may wrought upon it. I do present myself to address any and all manner of desires that Your Grace may require." With those words, a tender kiss upon her lips and a graceful bow he was gone leaving Mary more confused than ever.   
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
The courtiers clapped as the two noblemen shook hands over the net, holding the rackets in their left hands.   
Reaching down on his belt, Franco withdrew a silk handkerchief embroidered with Mary's monogram, passing it over the beads of sweat that collected against his forehead. It had been a vigorous game. Viscount Beauchamp an equal opponent, the games going back and forth until Franco had beaten Edward. "You have proven to be a formidable opponent, Viscount Beauchamp. You play with great skill."   
"Not as well as Your Grace it would appear." Edward said to Franco, good naturedly.   
"But for that one serve, Your Lordship would be the winner." Franco reminded him with a smile. "Do you have a handkerchief to tend to yourself? Your Lordship does not wish to soil such a shirt as yours. The embroidery is exquisite. Your seamstress is incredibly talented, a lady of your family?"   
"Her Grace the Duchess of Cadiz, Your Grace's espoused wife at Her Majesty's insistence and with His Majesty's approval. I do hope that Your Grace is not offended." Edward explained.   
No, My Lord, not in the least. It appears that My Lady Wife-to-be is in possession of many talents. This brings me to another matter, My Lord Beauchamp. Might I prevail upon Your Lordship to deliver Her Grace a gift and keep Her Grace entertained upon my behalf this evening? That is, if Your Lordship is not attending upon His Majesty's business. I would be forever in you debt if you will attend upon and keep Her Grace amused."   
"Your Grace." Edward said with a gentle incline of his head. "I would be honored present which ever gift His Grace seeks to present Her Grace and to attend to Her Grace and keep her amused and entertained on Your Grace's behalf. His Majesty does not require my presence this evening as he will be attending up Her Majesty the Queen."   
"Good. Then it is settled then." Franco said, with a smile, not knowing if Edward read the meaning behind his words. He could see quite plainly what drew Mary Tudor to Edward Seymour and him to her. She would be quite safe with the viscount whilst Franco attended to other intimate matters.   
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
Mary knelt upon the carpet in her bed chamber later that evening, playing with one of the new spaniel pups she had received as a gift from Franco. Rolling a ball upon the floor, the pup would chase after it on its tiny legs bringing it back to her mistress where Mary would roll the ball again taking great pleasure in the antics of her new pet pausing to scritch the dog behind her ears as she prepared to roll the ball once more.   
There came a staccato knock at the door.   
"Come!" Mary called as the spaniel puppy dashed over to Edward who came into the bedchamber carrying a velvet box in one hand, smiling at the wee beastie that wagged its tail furiously at him and went up upon her hind legs to paw at his booted calves.   
"Why hello! Whose little girl are you?" Edward asked, bending down with his free hand to give the pup an affectionate pat and to stroke her fur, whilst looking at Mary, who had gotten up, crossing the scant feet between them to stand nearby.   
"This is Artemis." Mary answered.   
"Why hello, Artemis." Edward greeted the spaniel. "Please excuse my behavior, Your Grace. I have been instructed to present this to you with His Grace the Duke of Cadiz's compliments. His Grace prays that what he has sent brings Your Grace great pleasure."   
Mary smiled. "Thank you, Lord Beauchamp." Taking the carved ebony box removing the lid, nestled in the red velvet lining was a necklace of Ceylon emeralds and white diamonds set in gold tucked in beside the necklace was a pair of earbobs to match, the gift worth a King's Ransom and then some. Mary gasped then giggled with pleasure lifting the necklace out of the box. "Oh, it is lovely! Please convey my sincerest thanks to His Grace, My Betrothed Spouse. I am eternally grateful for his most kind generosity. Oh! There are earbobs to match! Look at how the stones sparkle in the light!" She exclaimed, giddy as a young girl.   
"Very lovely. His Grace prevailed upon me to inform Your Grace that I am here to entertain and amuse Your Grace in any manner that would please you." Edward said.   
"Did he now?" Mary asked placing the necklace within the box, replacing the lid, laying it upon a nearby table. "Could I have your opinion on this robe? I had it made for my trousseau but could not resist wearing it presently. Does it please you, Edward?" She added, presenting herself in the Tudor green and white brocaded garment.   
"It is very pretty, Sweetheart. But is needs some adornment, a wee bit of enhancement. Mayhap a wee bit of adornment such as this?" He asked drawing forth a strand of the most perfect rare white Baroda pearls between each was a perfect diamond attached to it was a pink diamond teardrop with a purplish cast, the most desired and rare of colors for such gems, meant to nestle between the wearer's breasts. He held it out in his palm offering it to her. "A representation of mine own heart, Your Grace to wear near to thine own when we are apart as soon we shall be, My Love. I cannot present you with a representation of my soul which you also possess but know that it comes with mine own heart as one."   
"Oh, Edward, it is beautiful! For me?" She asked, snatching it up from his palm, his tender words not lost upon her. He told her that she held his heart. He was bold enough to give her a representation of it to wear and show the world.   
He nodded, grinning at the look of pure pleasure and tenderness on her face, unprepared when she tossed her arms, impulsively about his neck, kissing his cheek, the necklace hanging down in one of her hands.   
"Thank you!" She cried, kissing him once again, this time Edward turned his head so that their lips met, pulling her close against him, inhaling her perfume, kissing her back.   
"You are most welcome, My Dearest Heart. I had earbobs made to match." He said reaching within a pocket to draw forth the matching ornaments for her ears.   
She squealed in delight, kissing him once more, her mouth slanting over his.   
He laughed with pleasure against her mouth. Taking the necklace and placing them with the earbobs on the table beside Franco's gift. Picking her up in his arms, carrying her to the large four poster bed, laying her gently upon it.   
"Is this how Your Lordship seeks to entertain me?" She teased, reaching up to pull him down atop her. "Not with reading, music or any other sport or pastime but love making?"   
"I am hungry, Sweetheart. So terribly want of a desire for a taste of you." He stated undoing the sash of her brocaded robe, parting it with his long slender fingers.   
"Are you now My Lord? Is that how you entertain His Grace's espoused bride?" She asked.   
"His Grace is otherwise occupied with another as Your Grace is quite aware. I gave His Grace my solemn word that I would do as I must to keep Your Grace amused. His Grace prays that what he has sent pleases you." He said.   
Mary laughed. "Franco did indicate all that he sent to me this evening? Including the messenger?"   
"It would appear to be so, Sweetheart."   
"It would be incredibly disrespectful to not enjoy all the gifts that His Grace sent me, would it not?"   
"Yes, Sweetheart, it would be." Edward stated, helping her out of her robe as he planted gentle kisses on her neck, biting the tender flesh gently sending shivers of anticipation and desire down her spine pausing for a moment to take in the froth of lace and sheer white gauze that was her night gown. It was most indecent, meant to incite a man's carnal passions and appetites with just a not so gentle tug he could render it in two and leave her naked.   
"You are such the consummate courtier, Edward." Mary purred as his lips grazed a shoulder slipping the delicate lace down, tugging at the ribbons between her breasts, mouth trailing a scorching path from shoulder to the valley between her sweet orbs, long slender fingers dancing down her torso to her thighs, pulling at the white gauze and lace, giving that not so gentle tug with his fists. The flimsy fabric parted in his hands revealing the lower portion of her body to his gaze. Edward wasted no time in tearing the rest of the fabric from her. His mouth moving down her body, licking and blowing against her tender skin making her sigh with pleasure. "Ned!" She cried out feeling his teeth graze her stomach near her navel. Pausing for a moment to remove his shirt, tossing it on the foot of the bed, now bare chested he came back to her, positioning himself between her thighs, bending his head to gently bite her stomach, nipping on the tender skin to a hip, trailing a pair of kisses to the inner portion of her thigh down to her knee and back again until she was moaning and keening with the pleasure of it. "Ned! Ned! Oh, my darling!" She encouraged him in his sensual assault upon her, gasping when his tongue found her hidden pearl licking at it with the pointed tip. "Oh, yes! Yes! Yes! Ohhhhh..." She panted feeling him do the most deliciously sensual things to her with his tongue and teeth, making her toss her head back against the pillows, her hands clawing against the bed clothes as he drew her down into that vortex of exquisite pleasure until she shattered into a thousand stars.   
He did not wait for her climax to subside, impatient to be inside her, desperate to feel her on all sides of him once more, undoing the laces of his codpiece, releasing his hardness, he thrust into her roughly making her squeak in alarm. Christ! She was so damned tight! He thought as he moved within her, lifting her legs up about his hips, seeking to get as close as he could without climbing into her skin, going as deep as possible, withdrawing to thrust even deeper if that were possible.   
Mary clutched at her lover, her nails leaving little crescent marks up and down his broad muscular back, as he proceeded to thrust inside her affording her some of the most exquisite pleasure he had ever known. It did not hurt as much as it did the first time when he had breached her maidenhead just at that first initial thrust. Now she was clawing those same fingers up and down his back as he made passionate love to her, grasping his arse pushing him closer against her thrusting her chest up against his, her hardened nipples grazing against him. Tossing all caution completely to the wind, knowing that her betrothed was at present most likely engaged in his own Mortal Sin. No one will ever know...   
"You can scream when you reach your crisis, Sweetheart. I will catch it for you." He whispered breathily against her lips, kissing her fiercely as he felt himself tense as she tightened about him, the walls of her passage clamping about him like a vice, his breath hitching as he tensed, flooding her with his tribute capturing her screams of pleasure as he promised when she reached an intense climax a second after.   
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"Good Morning, Your Grace, did you pass a pleasant night? This was delivered for you this morning by a young page in the Earl of Durham's livery." Lady Susan said, coming toward the bed with a small carved ivory box in her hand.   
Mary eased herself up in a sitting position, her legs a wee bit stiff. As requested by Franco, Edward had kept Mary well entertained and amused until the wee hours. Leaving her bed just before the palace began to awaken shortly before dawn.   
"What is it?" She asked her voice still clouded with sleep. Yawning, she held her hand out for the box, easing back against the pillows.   
"I do not know. The page just said for Her Grace the Duchess of Cadiz with His Lordship, the Earl of Durham's compliments."   
Mary lifted the lid, withdrawing the rolled piece of parchment that lay on top, nestled within the box was a brooch in the shape of a red fox, wrought in gold and enamel, the beast's eyes blue sapphires the color of Thomas Durham's. "What a thoughtful gift!" She exclaimed, holding the pin in the palm of her hand. Letting the sapphires sparkle in the early morning light. Laying it in her lap upon the velvet coverlet, she unrolled the parchment to read:   
Waiting to address and attend to all and any of your desires. Wear this and think of me.   
Durham   
Rolling the parchment back up, she placed it back in the box with the brooch, laying it upon the bedside table, skirting back down into the bed with a wistful sigh. "Alas, My Lord, I fear you may be too late."


	11. Chapter XI

People are talking, talking 'bout people   
I hear them whisper, you won't believe it   
They think we're lovers kept under cover   
I just ignore it, but they keep saying   
We laugh just a little too loud   
We stand just a little too close   
We stare just a little too long   
Maybe they're seeing something we don't, Darlin'. 

Let's give them something to talk about   
Let's give them something to talk about   
Let's give them something to talk about   
How about love?

I feel so foolish, I've never noticed   
You'd act so nervous,   
Could you be falling for me?   
It took a rumor to make me wonder   
Now I'm convinced that I'm going under   
Thinking 'bout you every day   
Dream 'bout you every night   
I'm hoping that you feel the same way   
Now that we know it, let's really show it, Darlin'. 

Let's give them something to talk about   
A little mystery to figure out, babe   
Let's give them something to talk about   
How about love, love, love?

Let's give them something to talk about babe,  
A little mystery to figure out,   
Lets give them something to talk about,  
How about love?- "Let's Give Them Something to Talk About" as sung by Bonnie Raitt 

"James Lannister, I have come to tell you that you are to die on the morrow. It is time to atone for your sins and make your peace with the Almighty." Sir William Kingston informed the prisoner.   
Incarceration had not been kind to the earl. His once handsome visage was disfigured by large black, blue and yellow bruises, cuts and caked and dried blood. Several days' growth of beard covered his cheeks and chin. "Would you send His Excellency the Bishop of Winchester to hear my confession and administer Absolution?" Lannister's voice was a croak. "So I may do as much, Sir William."   
"Aye, My Lord. His Excellency will travel here anon."   
"What of my sister, Sir William? Have you heard of what is to Lady Celeste's fate?"   
"Banishment, My Lord. To Calais. His Majesty will spare her life but will not have her foul and base degree taint His Majesty's court. She is to live out the remainder of her days across the English Channel."   
"My son and heir?"   
"You forfeited your lands and titles when you committed treason, My Lord. His Majesty will decide your heir's fates as he has that of your sister. Concern yourself with preparing your own soul to meet its Maker, My Lord." Kingston told the earl.   
The following morning dressed in a clean white shirt and black breeches, James Lannister, Earl of Merioneth was dragged from his cell and tied upon a hurdle drawn by a horse to be borne from the Tower of London, through the streets of London to Tyburn. People lined the streets, risking the pouring rain, tossing garbage and offal, shouting epithets and coarse words as he passed wanting to see the traitor that had dared attempt to violate their beloved princess. A letter of complete submission written by the earl to His Majesty professing his profound guilt for the crimes leveled against him and a cry for mercy could not have the sentence commuted to the more humane beheading. His Majesty was adamant, and would not be swayed or influenced. James Lannister would suffer fully for his crimes.  
The earl flinched when a rotten cabbage hit his shoulder and something particularly foul smelling sprayed his face, burning his eyes. The stench of day's old piss and shit causing the bile to rise in his throat. He heaved. Closing his eyes tightly, drifting off to a land of fantasy in his head shutting out the cruel taunts, the epithets and worse being tossed at him by the hostile crowds.   
Her face came to him. The beautiful bitch! The source of his present misery he should have carried her away to the Island of Anglesey. Locked her in Beaumaris Castle. Kept her there for days engaging in the most wicked carnal delights. The Welsh Witch had bewitched him! Infused him with an unnatural lust. God Damn her! He imagined he would see those lovely sapphire eyes when he took his last breath.   
The scaffold was in readiness when he arrived, the executioner, a chaplain and many members of the Privy Council were there to witness James's demise. Among them the dukes of Suffolk, Norfolk and Cadiz, Cromwell, Rich, the Earl of Durham, Viscount Beauchamp, Tom Seymour, Surrey, Bishop Gardiner and others. Suffolk and Franco, Duke of Cadiz were there to represent His Majesty the King. There was also a vast crowd assembled to watch the proceedings.  
Lord James was untied and carried up the steps of the scaffold. The chaplain prayed with him for a moment, reciting Psalm 23 in Latin with him before James turned to the crowd which fell silent to listen to the condemned speak. "I come here to die to atone for my treasonous offences against His Most Gracious Majesty King Henry, Our Sovereign Lord, a great and glorious prince, long may he serve to reign over you all according to the Will of Almighty God. Please pray for me." James said, his voice faltering at the end. There would be no long speech from him. The time had come.  
The executioner stepped forward. "Do you forgive me, My Lord?"  
"Yes, willingly. Please make it quick. I wish to be free of this world."James Lannister stated, regaining some of his courage.  
The executioner placed the noose about James's neck, stringing him up, his broken legs and feet dangling off the floor in a grotesque array above the scaffold until he was almost unconscious. He was lowered to the floor with a thud, the noose removed, brought to a table where he was held down, his arms stretched like Christ upon the Cross, his breeches were torn open and his privy member was cut off.  
James let out a scream of pure agony as the severe pain registered with his brain. It would be over soon...  
The crowd cheered as the executioner took his axe and sliced into James Lannister's chest, blood spilling forth as he was vivisected and his entrails were pulled out, and the metallic scent of blood filled the air. "Lord Jesu, have mercy upon my soul... Lord, Jesu, have mercy..." James murmured over and over like a litany as he began to lose consciousness once more an image of those brilliant sapphire eyes clouding his vision as the blackness over took him. "Sweet Mary... Have mercy upon my soul..."   
Franco, Edward and Durham all flinched and closed their eyes as another scream of pure agony rent the air and the crowd cheered louder watching the gruesome spectacle. It was all over when the traitor's head was finally stricken off with the same axe that had been used to vivisect him.  
"So perish all His Majesty's enemies!" The executioner cried holding up the severed head of the foolish lascivious and lecherous lord whose vaulting ambition had proven to be his undoing.   
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
Mary stood in her bedchamber watching whilst the garments of her bridal trousseau were laid upon the bed, there were all manner of items from chemises to petticoats, kirtles, bodices, sleeves, cloaks, French hoods, caps, snoods, night rails, robes, exotic costumes all in a rainbow of colors from the deepest burgundy to the darkest violet including items in shades of white and garments in black including an Algerian ensemble decorated with white diamonds, black, grey and white pearls upon the tiny top and wide belt, silver spangles and diamonds decorated the sheer panels falling from it.   
It caught Franco's eye when he entered his betrothed's bed chamber. "Does it all please you, My Love?" He asked, grinning.   
"You have been more than generous, Franco. I will be forever grateful. I do not know if I will be able to wear them all within a year. I do not know if many will fit. I do hope to present you with an heir within that year."   
"Do not fret, Cara Mia, many have places where panels may be sewn in for an expanding belly." Franco said with a lascivious smile.   
Mary felt the heat steal within her cheeks, blushing prettily. "I would fill a nursery with your sons, Franco, God willing. I trust that the business that you had to attend to for His Majesty this morning has been expedited?" She asked.   
"Yes, My Love. It has. In the end, His Majesty did not commute the sentence to a mere beheading. Lord Lannister suffered fully for his crimes at Tyburn." Franco explained to her. "Who has His Majesty betrothed me to that men are willing to literally die and go to great lengths possess you?" Franco asked, his eyes studying Mary intently. He knew the answer but he wished to hear her opinions on her worth.   
"I did not intend for Lord Lannister to be charged with treason and to perish on my account. May God have mercy upon his soul." Mary said, crossing herself, piously.   
"I have heard to the contrary, My Love. Your Grace has become an English Helen of Troy."   
"Men went to war over Helen of Troy. I have not caused a war or launched ten thousand ships. Nor would I ever intend it, Your Grace." Mary told her betrothed husband.   
"But there would be men that would war over Your Grace's affections." Franco said, smiling. He was teasing and toying with her.   
"What good it would do them? I am declared bastard still. His Majesty only seeks to match us to appease my cousin, the Emperor and to get a foothold within the New World." Mary replied the conversation suddenly taking on a serious tone.   
"All of Christendom still views Your Grace as the Heiress to the English throne not the Lady Elizabeth who was declared a bastard when His Majesty annulled his marriage when the Harlot, Anne Boleyn was executed. No one in Christendom recognizes the fruit of that misalliance as lawfully begotten."   
"Shhhh! Have a care as to what you say, Your Grace!" Mary hissed. "There are spies about. If word got to His Majesty the King, my father there could be trouble for us both."   
"Nay, His Majesty seeks issue from our union, My Love, grandchildren, grandsons, more specifically. If His Majesty did not seek to please my half-brother, Charles he would not have matched us. It is a pity that Charles was not able to marry himself for he most assuredly would have had you."   
"He would have?" Mary asked, pleasantly alarmed. It had always been her mother's dream that she and the Emperor marry. They had been betrothed once when Mary was a girl.   
"Yes. But he sent me in his stead since I was available."   
"Affording me the better part of the bargain, Your Grace, you are by far the fairer to look upon than His Imperial Majesty the Emperor." Mary told her betrothed.   
Franco laughed out loud at her blatant compliment. "But I am swarthy, Your Grace, dark and dusky as a Gipsy or Moor."   
"Aye, but most finely made, Franco." Mary countered, quite blatantly assessing him assets and most certainly not finding him wanting in any way. He was an incredibly handsome man, dark skinned, black haired, twinkling onyx black eyes. The opposite of Edward with his pale skin, dark blond hair and dark blue eyes. A mirror image of each other.   
"Your Grace is kind. His Imperial Majesty has assured the legality of our union will not be questioned. He petitioned His Holiness Pope Paul III for a dispensation since we are well within the realms of consanguinity and affinity, though I am bastard born."   
"His Majesty most certainly knows none of this! Secretary Cromwell either!" Mary exclaimed, her eyes widening with fear.   
"No, My Love. Not for the benefit of England. But for your benefit and all of Christendom and good Catholics who still uphold the authority of His Holiness. There will never be a question to the legality of our marriage or the legitimacy of our children. All the babes that you present to me I will acknowledge and recognize as my own." His eyes flickered over her. He knew that she could be carrying Edward Seymour's child no matter how strong the potion she drank every morning there was that slim chance. "As lawfully begotten." He added with a smile.   
"His Holiness has granted it?" She asked.   
"If His Holiness has not by now he most certainly will. Especially with a ship filled with gold, jewels, and other treasures presented to him to be most assured that he would be most agreeable to granting His Imperial Majesty's request." Franco explained.   
Mary bit back a bark of laughter that threatened. She knew that bribes were common place to getting one's political desires met, she was aware of spies as well. She had employed them herself on more than one occasion. What made her laugh was that Franco was so blatant and blasé about it.   
"How soon will you know the outcome?"   
"Before we are married. I would never allow either of us to stand before God to take our final vows. it is just reassurance. Our betrothal is legal in the eyes of God."   
"The betrothal can be as binding as the marriage. When it is consummated it is. The wedding then becomes a formality. Our's is good and valid."   
"Yes, My Love." Franco said, careful not to trigger memories that were still raw to Mary. "Would Her Majesty have approved of me? Your Late Mother, Queen Katherine?" Franco asked.   
"The man, most assuredly she would have. Your parentage and origins may have proven to have distressed her. It was her wish that I become the Holy Roman Empress though Your Grace has much to recommend him. I believe that she would have appreciated your adventurous spirit and desire to explore the New World."   
"The fact that I am Handsome as Sin would have proven to be advantageous. Trastamara women have an eye for a dashing rogue." Franco teased Mary, his dark brown eyes twinkling. He laughed, a rich and sensual sound that sent shivers of pleasure dancing up her spine.   
Mary blushed, joining in the laughter. He was correct. He was a charming rogue. From being a sheltered young woman with no virtual interest and experience with men she had then become the object of desire of several courtiers and had learnt of her allure. It would prove to be a powerful political asset in the years to come.   
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
Mary sat at her writing desk, taking the sander; Mary shook it gently on the ink upon the paper to dry it. Placing the quill back in the inkwell, fortunately the ink dried rather quickly. Folding the paper neatly, she took up the stick of sealing wax; with the candle nearby she dripped some of the blue wax onto the fold of the paper and sealed it with her personal seal, a Welsh Cadwallader dragon with a Tudor rose within his mouth. She pressed the seal against the wax, making an imprint, blowing on it so it would dry, motioning for a young page that was standing nearby to come forward. "Could you please see that this is delivered into the hands of the Earl of Durham, William?" Mary asked the young boy.   
"Yes, Your Grace. Shall I wait for a reply, Your Grace?" The young page, William asked.   
"Yes, please." Mary said looking at the boy. "Go on with you now." She shooed him out wondering what the earl's reaction to her Message of Thanks would be. She had placed the jeweled and enameled fox brooch within her jewel case. The missive that Thomas had sent she had hidden away within the stack of personal letters and effects that she kept tied with a ribbon secreted in another box within her chamber. Such a thoughtful and personal gift demanded a personal note of thanks from the receiver. He was so chivalrous and gallant but Mary was finding that she enjoyed her men bold, a wee bit reckless, aggressive like... Edward and Franco, she thought with a sigh. Though chivalry and gallantry did have their places, she wondered if her head would ever be turned by the dashing earl if ever something dreadful happened to either Franco or Edward?   
Durham was on the tennis court playing doubles match. His partner, Aramis, Italian grandee in Don Franco's household against the Don, himself and Viscount Beauchamp when the page found him, delivering the message during a break in the play.   
"I was told by Her Grace to wait for a reply, My Lord. What shall I tell Her Grace?"   
Durham was taken aback by the short and gentle note of thanks from the princess. She enjoyed the brooch. She left him hopeful that she may need him in the near future to attend to her desires but she was not completely clear. At some point he would wear down her resistance. He looked up in the expectant faces of the Duke of Cadiz and Viscount Beauchamp hearing Seymour clear his throat rather loudly.   
"Well, My Lord? The young boy is waiting for a reply." Viscount Beauchamp prompted Durham who looked up from the missive to stare into Edward Seymour's cold blue eyes.   
"I pray that Your Grace is not offended?" Durham asked Franco.   
"You have done a service that pleased my betrothed. Why would I be offended, My Lord, unless your intensions behind the service were dishonorable? Then I would have to run you through with a blade of Spanish steel." Franco teased the meaning in his words clear.   
"Nay, Your Grace." So Thomas had been measured and found wanting? Wanting at present but that most certainly could change in a volatile court such as this one. Fortunes and favors were know to change with great frequency.   
"I did not believe so, My Lord." Franco said. "I know of the great love and esteem you hold Her Grace. That Your Lordship would never seek to dishonor her." He raised a brow. "Go on now; give your message to Her Grace. Mayhap Her Grace would care to leave her fittings to watch us gentlemen play tennis? Extend the invitation if you would." Franco said turning to the young page.   
Young William bowed. "It would be my pleasure, Your Grace."   
"You could command her." Armais posed. "Cannot bear to be without her for long lengths of time, Your Grace?"   
"I am certain that Her Grace would be willing to excuse herself from fittings for her trousseau in order to grace us fine gentlemen with her lovely presence, to observe this fine exhibition of sport." Edward put in.   
"Go fetch Her Grace then. Not before Lord Durham tends his reply to Her Grace's message. Her Grace has been most sorely missed. I fear that I am desirous of her company, as, I would warrant are many gentlemen about us."   
"Yes, Your Grace. My Lord, what shall I tell Her Grace?" William asked looking expectantly at Thomas Nicholls.   
"Tender my profound thanks to Her Grace for her missive. I will keep it close to me." Durham told the page.   
Edward resisted the urge to make a face as the page hurried off to do the Duke of Cadiz's bidding.   
He found the lady examining jewelry and hair ornaments.   
"Your Grace, I tendered your missive to Lord Durham. His Lordship was most pleased and tenders his profound thanks. His Lordship said that he will keep Your Grace's missive close to him. His Lordship was on the tennis court with His Grace of Cadiz, Lord Lucco and Viscount Beauchamp. His Grace of Cadiz requests your presence, Madame." The page told Mary.   
"We shall not disappoint, William" Mary said, smoothing her gown, twirling a curl between her fingers, adjusting the small cap that covered her hair which was hanging loose down her back as befitting her maiden state. "I am ready."   
All eyes turned from the play on the court to the lovely red head and her women as Mary and her ladies took their seats. All of the men on the court stopped to acknowledge her entrance.   
Franco smiled at his betrothed, reaching into his jerkin to withdraw another of her monogrammed handkerchiefs that he had filched from her chambers, kissing it, and then saluting her, tucking the piece of embroidered lawn into her jerkin once more. Looking to his left at his partner, noting that Edward Seymour wore one of the shirts that she had handmade for him, the black work upon the collar and cuffs exquisite.   
Franco noted how the viscount's demeanor changed ever so slightly when his beloved was nearby. Though not perceived by the average courtier, only those whose business it was to read other men's nuances and expressions as Franco had learnt sailing the Seven Seas. Edward Seymour's eyes were hungry, the pupils dilated with desire when he glanced at the fiery haired beauty.   
Franco was not the only one that was observing Viscount Beauchamp when he gazed at Mary Tudor. The Lord Secretary Cromwell was also watching intently. Noting the hungry looks that Edward Seymour was giving the King's eldest daughter. The man was besotted with her, a fact that His Grace of Cadiz did not seem all that distressed by. Quite the contrary, His Grace did not seem to be distressed at all. Cromwell's intelligence network had informed him of the duke's intimate friendship with Lord Lucco, the late evening amorous activities that the Lady Mar..erm, Duchess of Cadiz and Viscount Beauchamp got up to. Fortunately she had succumbed to the bold and coolly elegant knight's son from Wiltshire and not the devastatingly charming Catholic earl from the north. Though Lord Durham had fallen for her. That was rather apparent to Cromwell. Since she had entered the Oberservers' Enclosure, Thomas Nicholls's had been unable to tear his gaze from her, his intent clear upon his face. He was more than willing and most eager to be the lady's lover. Cromwell wondered if the earl knew that Edward Seymour had gotten their first and it was the most probable cause of the healthy and radiant glow to Mary's skin and the new sparkle to her blue eyes. The pleasure Henry Tudor's daughter received in the arms of Her Majesty's older brother. Who would have thought that Ned Seymour was so hot blooded. The maxim regarding still waters certainly applied in this situation and was completely true, Cromwell thought. Seymour's blood boiled for Catherine of Aragon's girl. Cromwell could not resist a chuckle as he intently watched all the players in this interesting drama.   
Hearing the noise, Sir Richard Rich turned toward his master. "Mr. Secretary?"   
"Viscount Beauchamp has won the game before any of the other competitors have ascertained the rules and that which they are all playing at." Cromwell chuckled pointedly looking from the four men on the tennis court to Mary Tudor and back again.   
"Pity she cannot marry the man." Rich observed.   
"In all good time, Richie, in all good time. Presently, His Majesty and His Grace allow His Lordship the honor of playing at as Her Grace's 'protector'. As in all things that young man undertakes, I would warrant that he executes his duties most seriously and performs..." Here Cromwell cleared his throat. "The best of his ability." The meaning behind the Lord Secretary's words was quite clear to Rich. "He is ambitious and had developed an unnatural passion for her, quite a potent combination."   
"Does the King know?" Rich asked.   
"It was His Majesty who commanded Viscount Beauchamp to look after his Precious Pearl to begin with." Cromwell told Rich.   
"Certainly His Majesty thought..." Rich began.   
Cromwell arched a brow over an eye his meaning clear once more. "Come now, sit back and enjoy the fun..." He added, laughing lightly motioning to the quartet of men on the tennis court and the young woman in the stands. "I trust we will not be bored with either manner of play."   
_____________________________________________________________________________________   
"Do the emeralds please you?" He asked with a teasing smile. "Or do you prefer the pink pearls?"   
"Neither. I rather fancy the messenger that delivered them into my most grateful hands. You both are so very generous. How shall I repay such kindness?"   
Edward's smile turned wolfish. "Repay the messenger or His Grace? If Your Grace's is considering how to repay the messenger..."   
"His Grace is not present. Therefore I would be considering how best to show my appreciation to the dashing messenger. Several manners of ways have dashed through my mind."   
"That would make a seasoned whore blush, I would warrant, you Wily Vixen!" Edward teased, grinning broadly when her eyes swept boldly over him, lingering upon his codpiece. If another woman had been so brazen he would have been sore offended. But not his Mary. It delighted him that she was unafraid to be honest in her passion and desire for him. They were lovers.   
"Fie, Sir! For Shame! You would have me upon my knees in worship." She teased back, tapping the tip of his nose with a well manicured index finger.   
Edward took the opportunity to grab her about the waist pulling her into his arms making her cry out in alarm. "At the moment I would have you kiss me, Sweetheart!" He stated his mouth capturing hers in a passionate kiss his mouth slanting over hers.   
Wrapping her hands about his neck she pulled him close, her bosom crushing against his chest, fingers lacing through the fine hairs at the nape, He had schooled her to be bold in her passion, turning matters about, tracing the point of her tongue along the seam of his lips seeking entrance.   
His mouth opened under her, his tongue slipping from between his teeth, plunging into her mouth, taking possession of her, chuckling, a low sensual sound in the back of his throat upon hearing her moan with naked desire against his plundering mouth.   
He danced about with her in his arms, kissing her fiercely, pulling her down into his lap as he sat upon a marble bench in a secluded portion of where they were in the garden. Away from prying eyes, her skirts flaring about him, splaying a palm against the small of her back to steady her whilst his mouth trailed a path of blazing kisses from her mouth over her jaw toward an ear.   
"I want you!" He whispered, nuzzling her neck, his free hand grasping at the fabric of her gown seeking beneath her kirtle and petticoats. "Oh, yes!" The tips of his finger touching the smooth skin of a royal knee, they danced up an inner thigh, caressing the soft flesh leaving a scorching path in his wake.   
Mary squirmed in his lap, slipping a hand down from about his neck, venturing it beneath her skirts, grasping his, guiding it higher up her burning skin to her core.   
"Eager are you not?" He asked, laughing lightly. "Do not fret, Sweetheart. I will give you all that you want and more. I promise you." He added, nipping the side of her neck. "Shall I take you here? Would you enjoy that?" He knew the risks involved. The scandal that it would create if someone discovered them. He had been arrogant and imperious with the guards when they had come here. Telling them that Her Grace had gotten over heated in the Great Hall, that he had brought her there for some air, dismissing the Warders, who left them alone together, just the two of them so no one would observe them, no one would ever know or suspect because of the trust and esteem His Majesty held Viscount Beauchamp. Soon she would belong to another man. He had to take these fleeting moments when he could, before she became Franco's.   
"You cannot. Oh, Ned! Oh, My Darling! We shant... We must not... Franco..."   
"Entertains Lord Lucco, as before, My Love." He told her.   
She knew of her betrothed husband's predilection for the charming Lord Lucco. That he enjoyed the carnal attentions of men as well as women, at present only Armais and herself seemed to be what he desired.   
"Come now, Sweetheart. Let me..." Edward coaxed feeling her body calling out her unspoken need to him. She was so ready and willing and he was so eager to take.   
"Not on a bench in the garden...Oh!" She gasped feeling his fingertips graze the curls at the juncture of her thighs.   
"Where then? Shall I carry you inside through the Great Hall and up to your apartments?" He asked through kisses against her throat. Muttering a vulgar oath when hearing footsteps upon the gravel path nearby. "Quick, Sweetheart! Off my lap! Someone approaches!" Edward exclaimed as he withdrew his hand from beneath her skirts, helping her off his thighs to sit up the bench. "I am not finished with you!" He added with a wink and a devilish smile as the pair settled in, side by side, upon the bench as from behind the hedgerow and rose bushes, Master Secretary Cromwell and Sir Richard Rich appeared.


	12. Chapter XII

Ohhh, baby girl, where you at?  
Got no strings, got men attached  
Can't stop that feelin' for long, no  
Mmm, you makin' dogs wanna beg  
Breakin' them off your fancy legs  
But they make you feel right at home, now

Ohhh, see all these illusions just take us too long  
And I want it bad...  
Because you walk pretty, because you talk pretty  
'Cause you make me sick, and I'm not leavin' till you're leavin'

Oh, I swear there's something when she's pumpin', askin' for a raise  
Well does she want me to carry her home now?  
So does she want me to buy her things?  
On my house, on my job  
On my loot, shoes, my shirt, my crew, my mind  
My father's last name?

When I get you alone  
When I get you you'll know, babe  
When I get you alone  
When I get you alone

Oh, come on  
Yeah, yeah

Baby girl you da sh...  
That makes you my equivalent  
Well you can keep your toys in the drawer tonight, all right  
All my dawgs talkin' fast:  
Ain't you got some photographs?  
'Cause you shook that room like a star, now  
Yes you did, yes you did

All these intrusions just take us too long  
And I want you so bad...  
Because you walk city, because you talk city  
'Cause you make me sick, and I'm not leavin' till you're leavin'

So I pray to something she aint bluffin', rubbin' up on me  
Well does she want me to make a vow?  
Check it, well does she want me to make it now?  
On my house, on my job  
On my loot, shoes, my voice, my crew, my mind  
My father's last name?

When I get you alone  
When I get you you'll know, babe  
When I get you alone  
When I get you alone

Oohh...  
When I get you alone- "When I Get You Alone" Robin Thicke 

"Do you believe that His Majesty could have bestowed any more titles upon His Grace? There will be none left for the rest of us!" Viscount Beauchamp complained to his brother, Thomas his eyes looking several people down from his place upon the dais at the bridegroom. "Duke of Bedford and of Cambridge? Jasper Tudor, His Majesty's great uncle was the last to hold the title of Duke of Bedford. A bastard half brother of the Emperor marries His Majesty's eldest daughter and it appears that manna has reigned down from heaven." He groused.   
"Come now, brother. His Grace did marry His Majesty's Pearl of Christendom. There must be some reward in it. Are you jealous of the titles or of the fact that now you will not be needed to act as Her Grace's protector now that she has the benefit of a husband? His Majesty had to do something for the man. You know as much as anyone that the titles are a small price to pay for what His Grace brings England in return. The funds into the Exchequer garnered from the voyages to the New World along with the Dissolution of the Monasteries will make His Majesty the richest monarch in Christendom. Not to mention the vast amount of riches brought back from New World that will enrich the nation. Marrying the don to his eldest daughter and bestowing upon him titles is a small price to pay for all that. I would imagine that His Majesty with his love of children looks forward to the couple providing him with a grandchild in the not so distant future, preferably a grandson. Marriages are made to produce legitimate issue." Thomas explained to Edward noting the slightly pained look in his brother's eyes when they fell upon the bride for a brief moment. "Come now, Ned. This is a celebration. We have been invited to drink with the groom and Suffolk. I do not know about you but I plan upon getting raging drunk. Such a celebration calls for imbibing large quantities of wine."   
"I wish to propose a toast." Franco slurred slightly, the quartet of gentlemen had been drinking for nigh on an hour or two and were well into their cups. They had first toasted the bride's family relations all the way back to King Arthur and were working their way back to the Ancient kings when Suffolk, who was leading the toasts had forgotten the line of descent so now they had decided to toast the bride herself raising their glasses to various portions of her person getting drunker and drunker in the process.   
"What are we drinking to now? Her Grace's...erm... pert little nose?" Thomas Seymour asked, looking up at Franco. "Her Grace does possess quite a neat and well favored nose." He stated in his drunken haze.   
"I was thinking of that pretty mouth of hers." Edward stated, taking a sip from his goblet, taking the carafe of wine on the table and filling it once again. "It was made for kissing."   
"It was made for engaging in much more intimate pursuits than kissing My Lord Beauchamp." Franco stated with a lascivious laugh. "Those which both you and I have experienced, I would warrant, that lovely mouth about your cock, hmmm?" Franco whispered in Edward's ear so only he could hear, the duke then clapped him upon the back in a fraternal gesture. "To my wife's pretty and most talented mouth!" Franco toasted raising his goblet.   
All the men clinked glasses drinking soundly. Filling their goblets once again.   
"It is your turn, Your Grace. What other portions of Her Grace's person shall we toast? She does have a rather lovely bosom. Shall we toast to Her Grace's lovely bosom. A pair of tits that would make a man weep with joy to gaze upon them." Thomas Seymour said.   
"Aye! Her lovely tits! The tiny waist and that delicious plump little arse! Each cheek made by God Himself to fit perfectly within a man's palm. Praise to the Lord!" Franco stated, toasting once more.   
"And to all his saints and martyrs!" Charles Brandon added, clinking his goblet against Franco's. "Lord Durham! Come and join us, man! We are toasting portions of Her Grace of Bedford, Cambridge and Cadiz's person. What would you raise your glass to Nicholls? We have toasted her eyes, nose, mouth, waist, her lovely tits and that delectable little arse!" Brandon waved the earl over, pouring him a goblet and setting it into his hand. He was obviously incredibly drunk because when sober he would not refer to his niece's body in such a fashion.   
"Her hips, Your Grace." Durham stated.   
"Aye, those hips, we cannot forget about her thighs and most importantly her..." Franco slurred, laughing, stumbling over his words. "That most intimate place."   
"You mean her cunt?" Tom Seymour asked, dodging his elder brother's cuff to his head.   
"Watch your tongue!" Edward hissed.   
"Why? Do you not wish to be reminded of what you ache for, brother?" Tom Seymour asked Edward so he could only hear.   
Edward glared at Tom. "Shut up, Thomas! You do not know of what you speak!" Edward spat.   
"I say we drink to Her Grace's knees!" Brandon said noting the tension between the Seymour brothers even in his drunken state.   
"Aye! Do not mind if I do!" Durham said, clinking his goblet against Brandon's the two of them drinking soundly.   
"Well, Durham, what shall we drink to next? Eh?" Franco asked, putting his arm about the other man.   
"The graceful line of Her Grace's back, Your Grace." Thomas Durham said.   
"So you have noticed that she has a graceful line to her back, eh, Thomas?" Franco asked. "I believe that toast will require a long drink. What say you, My Friend? To Mary's graceful back!" He cried out raising his goblet then clinking it against Durham's both men taking a long drink as the other men joined in. "Ned here spends as much time with my wife as I do. I say you offer the next toast, Viscount Beauchamp. What say you?"   
"I would be most honored, Your Grace. Your Grace mentioned it but did we indeed toast Her Grace's lovely legs." Edward stated.   
"Aye! You have seen them as well have you? Most shapely are they not? I had best be abed with the beautiful lady consummating our union. I am far too in my cups, Ned! What if I cannot find my way about that luscious body? Would you be my proxy, Ned? Satisfy her this evening if I am completely unable to do my duty? The lady is deserving of much pleasure this evening. If you are too far in your cups mayhap Durham would be obliging?" Franco asked his voice slurred.   
"Do not fret, Your Grace. You will be able to consummate your marriage. When you see Her Grace within the bridal chamber your head will instantly sober and your instincts will guide you." Edward replied. He could not believe that Franco had suggested such a thing. The poor fellow was incredibly drunk.   
As it turned out, Franco's fears were unfounded and Edward was completely correct in his assessment of the situation. Franco instantly sobered upon seeing his bride. The two of them spent quite a night and the next three days and nights consummating their union. Franco not emerging from Mary's bed chamber until the morning of the fourth day looking incredibly content unable to hide the grin of satisfaction that spread across his dark handsome features, a grin that caused much distress to Viscount Beauchamp.   
Unfortunately, reports of risings in Lincolnshire and Yorkshire, in the whole of the north cut short what time Mary and Franco would have together in the new days of their marriage. Henry needed all of his gentlemen about him, including his new son-in-law who was a proven commander. The king dispatched the Duke of Suffolk and the Duke of Bedford and Cambridge and Lord Aramis Lucco to quell the rebellion. What was to be called in history as 'The Pilgrimage of Grace' had begun.   
A devout Catholic, Mary was sympathetic to the rebels and their cause not being a supporter of Lord Secretary Cromwell's Dissolution of the Monasteries especially when her husband's wealth from his voyages to the New World had added copious amounts of riches to the Treasury though she was clever enough to keep her father unaware of her inclinations. She knew that her husband and her uncle were also sympathetic to the rebel's cause only doing what their king had ordered them to. The whole rebellion had caused a dreadful rift between Mary and Edward. They had had several horrible rows. Mary was so upset and distressed that she was refusing to speak with him and see him in private, when they were in public she would speak to him with the utmost courtesy so not many detected that all was not well between them.   
Even though her husband was away in the north, Henry made the decision to send Mary to her estate at Hunsdon sending along Thomas Nicholls, the Earl of Durham to escort her as Viscount Beauchamp could not be spared the king needing his level headed advice in the Privy Chamber.   
The couple traveled together from London with Mary's retinue and baggage seeking lodging in a manor house of a baron and his wife who were friends of Mary and her late mother and secretly sympathetic to the pilgrims. Arriving late at night, Mary and Thomas were shown to their connecting bedchambers, which happened to be those of the Lord and Lady of the Manor. Provided with a light supper, the lady of the house made certain that baths were available for her noble guests before they retired for the night.   
_____________________________________________________________________________________ 

Mary could hear the sounds of splashing coming from the open doorway that connected the mistress's and master's chambers. Thomas Nicholls was enjoying his bath, Mary thought as she ran the brush through her long hair, pausing for a moment, setting it beside the basin of water and pitcher on a table the baroness had set up for Mary's toiletry needs. The young duchess started when she heard the mixture of masculine and feminine laughter.   
"No, no, My Lord!" Mary heard the admonishment from the maid followed by giggling.   
"Do you not have to see to the pleasure and welfare of all your guests? Was not that the strict instruction of the baron?" Durham's distinctive voice came through the open door, she heard him chuckling as he bantered flirtatiously with the maid.   
Mary rose, walking to the open door way that separated the chambers, watching the scene before her. The earl in the bathtub, the maid, a buxom brunette that Mary remembered from earlier that evening when they had arrived at the manor house late, exhausted from their day of travel; the maid that Susan White, Mary's confidant and head waiting women had told the duchess that had a certain sort of reputation. She was leaning over him, her ample bosom looking as though it would spill over the top of her incredibly low cut bodice, reaching in the water to retrieve a natural sea sponge. The girl was quite pretty in a bovine sort of way, Mary thought, feeling a stab of jealousy as it registered that the handsome earl was enjoying the young woman's attentions.   
The little cow was certainly enjoying his! Mary thought feeling her anger rise realizing that she truly cared for Thomas Nicholls far more than she had cared to admit to herself until now. She felt herself being pulled closer toward the thresh hold of the open doorway as if pulled by some unexplainable force crossing into his bedchamber.   
The maid saw Mary before Thomas did.   
"Your Grace?" She asked, the sensual laughter quickly dying in her throat, looking up into Mary's face, quickly discerning the way her eyes glittered in the candlelight, the pursing of her mouth as though she were agitated about something.   
"You may go. You are no longer needed here." Mary commanded staring at the girl coldly.   
"Madame, His Lordship's bath?" The maid protested noting the Mary's attire, the richly brocaded robe and the velvet mule slippers upon her feet. She was an elegant and intimidating presence.   
"I will finish it." Mary replied noting the smile of pleasure that spread across the earl's face. "Unless Your Lordship has an objection then I will give the maid leave to continue."   
"Nay, Your Grace. Go on with you, Meg." Thomas Nicholls said, looking at the girl, waving her off with a hand.   
"Shall I return? In an hour perhaps?" The maid purred at the earl, her voice seductive. It was obvious, rather obvious what she was offering.   
Durham looked to Mary.   
"No, Meg. You will no longer be needed this evening." Mary replied, her voice still cold. What she had heard of the baggage was true. Meg the Maid was notorious for insinuating and flaunting herself at men. From what Susan had told her Meg had quite a reputation from what the other servants in the baron's household had managed to explain to her as Mary and Durham had been enjoying refreshment with the baron and baroness when they had arrived. Mary did not care for the way the girl was slyly assessing the earl as he sat in the tub like she was contemplating her next meal. "Now go!" Mary may not want all of Thomas Nicholls yet but the little cow was not about to have any part of him.   
"Your Grace, My Lord." Meg rose up, smoothing her skirts down before bobbing a curtsey at the duchess and the earl, knowing that she was dismissed noting the adoring looking that Durham gave the king's eldest daughter as the lady walked closer to the tub as Meg advanced out of the chamber. She prayed that a man would gaze at her the way that Durham was looking at the Duchess of Bedford, Cadiz and Cambridge.   
"Let us wash the stink of travel from Your Lordship." Mary said, removing her robe so that it would not get wet, laying it upon a nearby stool, stepping out of her slippers. She was dressed only in her nightgown. A pretty confection, full sleeved, low cut, decorated with seed pearls and embroidery, ribbons and lace.   
"As Your Grace wishes." Durham replied.   
She felt her heart catch as their eyes met. His gaze smoldering with desire taking in the cut and contours of her night rail, how lovely she looked. "Should you be attending to me thusly attired, Your Grace? I will have to seek out my confessor upon the morrow if Your Grace comes forward and..."   
"Hush!" Mary said, placing her fingertips upon his lips to silence further protests. "The baroness has already sought her bed, I dismissed the maid. I am afraid I am all that is available, Thomas. Unless, of course, you would wish to take care of the matters yourself, if you desire, I will be more than delighted to leave you to them. But Your Lordship appears as though he may desire assistance." Mary explained undoing the fastenings of her sleeves, turning back the cuffs up to her elbows so she would not get them wet.   
"You know that it is most improper for Your Grace to be here. Though I appreciate your desire to assist me what of your honor and good name?" Durham asked.   
"Have you not pledged to be my champion, My Lord?" Mary asked. "If one seeks to tarnish my reputation would you not defend me? I doubt that Meg will say much. I hear the servants dislike her because of her behavior. They will not hold any credit to what she says if she chooses to gossip about us." Reaching beneath the water, Mary searched about for the sponge, grasping it and lifting it to the surface, squeezing the water upon his naked chest with the smattering of ginger colored hair the droplets of water cascading down it in little rivulets catching the candlelight so they shone like little jewels. "What does it matter? It is only a bath, is it not?" Reaching for the cake of soap she worked up lather within the sponge, leaning forward to wash his chest, gently dashing it over his upper chest, down over his nipples, which she paid extra attention to.   
Thomas chuckled. "Is it truly only a bath? Have you come to care for me just a wee bit more, Mary? Because Viscount Beauchamp has mistreated that which was placed with so much trust within his keeping? You know that I will cherish all that you choose to entrust into mine for however long it may be. Let me make you exquisitely happy even if only for a little while." Thomas said to her. He had heard of the rows that Mary and Edward had had regarding the present uprising in the north. Thomas knew how miserable Viscount Beauchamp was afterward how miserable Edward still was. Moping about, tossing himself into his work because the duchess was virtually not speaking to him. When it was necessary for the pair to converse Mary was polite and gracious as a woman in her position would be to a gentleman in Viscount Beauchamp's. Thomas also knew how deeply hurt Mary was. Her Sir Galahad's armor was severely tarnished and covered with blood. He was not the noble knight that she imagined he was.   
"Mayhap... We are friends..." Mary began.   
"I believe that I can make you much happier if we were a wee bit more than friends." Thomas said, watching as the sponge in her hand was squeezed over his taut abdomen and stomach, Mary inched in that much closer affording her better access to him. It would be so easy to pull her into the tub with him.   
"A wee bit or much more than friends, Thomas? What do you want? You speak of protecting my honor and good name but it appears that you are quite desirous to corrupt me all the same. Do you seek to mend the damage that Viscount Beauchamp has wrought upon my heart?" She asked. They were alone; the vestiges of her resolve were rapidly slipping away. She knew that Franco was up north with her uncle Suffolk quelling the rebellion. Lord Aramis had gone with them. She knew of the intimate relationship between her husband and the handsome Italian. She knew that Durham was a man Franco implicitly trusted with her honor and virtue, that there would be no scandal. That like with Edward, no one would know if she chose to take him into her bed. Not a living soul. But not now, not yet, mayhap a kiss or two, he would have to work for the rest.   
She was moving closer to him, decreasing that gap between their bodies, her voice hot against his face as she danced the sponge over his abdomen her gaze falling watching the water sluice down his stomach and into the tub over the hard and taut muscles. Swallowing, Mary licked her lower lip with the tip of her tongue knowing that he was watching her every move, reaching out her other hand she touched him, feeling the warmth and heat of his body emanate and reach out to her inquisitive fingers. Mary began to tremble with desire, her head coming up, eyes locking with his, seeing the deep tenderness and love in his gray-blue eyes, just as his head lowered, his mouth seeking hers in a searing kiss as she was pulled within the tub water sloshing over the sides, her night rail becoming soaked, Mary crying out softly in alarm. "Do you trust me to mend your heart? Is my great folly all but forgotten? Because I do wish to love you, My Darling, every precious inch of you if you would let me." He whispered before his mouth captured hers once more.   
She could not pull away the sponge fell into the water as one of her hands went up to cradle his neck with a hand, as his own hands came about to grasp her shoulders, holding her close against him as his lips caressed hers, lowering her onto him in the tub. The kiss turning into kisses that became more and more impassioned as she shifted herself so she was facing him in the tub one of her legs going over one of his as they shifted about finding the most comfortable positions in the confined space, her soaked night rail falling about both of them, the wet fabric clinging to her limbs, whilst he pulled her closer, his chest crushing against her bosom, making her moan against his mouth. Blessed Jesu! His kisses were sweet! She thought feeling one of his hands on a wet royal knee, his fingertips caressing her skin, moving a wee bit higher up her thigh, sending shards of pure desire through her.  
His other hand fell away from her shoulder running frantically up and down her back to her buttocks and back again, her lips parting slightly against his, their tongues teasing one another, swirling about, teeth nipping not so gently at each other's lips, his fingertips moving that much higher against the soft pale skin of her inner thigh, making her gasp against his mouth.  
"Thomas, please! Not here! Please not here!" She whispered, moving closer against him wanting more, feeling the hand at her back run over her hair down her neck to splay his hand against her waist, caressing her skin through the wet fabric of her night rail, as she allowed his mouth to devour hers becoming temporarily lost in his delicious kisses. "Oh, Sweet Jesu! Please not now! I cannot..." She held onto what little was left of her resolve.   
His fingers became bolder caressing their way even higher, reaching the soft flesh of her inner thighs. "Whatever you wish, My Angel, I will give you whatever you wish. I will wait for your word." He rasped against her swollen lips, crushing his mouth against hers once more sliding the hand against her waist up to her bosom. She was not ready, not yet. But she would be. The pleasure of having her would be that much more precious for the waiting. She would succumb. It would all be in a matter of time. But she would be his.


	13. Chapter XIII

Mary spent a fitful night's sleep, tossing and turning, wracked with guilt for allowing Tom Nicolls those liberties. Kissing him and allowing him to touch her. She blushed fiercely, flushing all over from the top of her head to the tips of her toes with embarrassment. He must think her morals on caliber with the wicked women in London, those 'Winchester geese' from the Southwark stews. She had heard Tom Seymour speaking of them to some of the king's grooms including one Thomas Culpepper. They sold their bodies for sexual favors, were loose in their morals.   
Groaning she tossed the covers over her head, burrowing beneath the bedclothes totally unaware of the tall lean silhouette of a man observing her from the doorway that connected the two chambers, back lit by the early dawn light, retreating into his chamber.   
Mary peered out from beneath the bedclothes, eyes searching about to be certain that he was no longer hovering about. The thought of seeing him, engaging him in conversation made her almost recoil in shame due to what had transpired between the pair the previous evening.   
She had made it all too clear that she found him far too pleasing. He was so willing to mend the damage that Ned Seymour had wrought about her heart. He had told her that he wished to be more than friends, that he could make her very happy if she but let him. She knew that her husband trusted Durham with the preservation of her honor and virtue but after her relationship with Edward had foundered and the pain it had caused her was she willing to enter into a Courtly Love Affair and possibly more with another man? Her heart did need to mend, would she allow time do it or would she allow her handsome charming kinsman to aide her? He had told her that he would be patient and wait for her if she wanted to take him into her bed.  
Lavinia and Drusilla were the first of Mary's women to attend her. Both women concerned to find their mistress obviously distressed. What had occurred the previous evening to have their normally calm and chatty mistress so quiet and solemn?   
They were relieved that the tub was quickly brought and Mary was helped into the hot water. She was already bathing when her English ladies bustled in.   
"They say that Lord Durham did not sleep well last evening. That when he awoke His Lordship was tangled about in the bedclothes. What manner of affect did you have upon His Lordship last evening?" Susan asked her mistress.   
Mary looked about to be certain that no one was eaves dropping. "We engaged in some, erm, inappropriate behavior last evening. In the bath. He did not make love to me but he wanted to." She confessed.   
"Inappropriate behavior? At least you did not allow it to go that far. Did he please you?"   
Mary nodded, her cheeks staining a pretty pink. "Susan, I am so ashamed!"   
"Hush, now! There is nothing to be ashamed about. It is only natural to be attracted to a handsome courtier with Your Grace being so lovely. Did he please you more so than Viscount Beauchamp?" As soon as the question was asked, Susan knew that she had hit a nerve. Her mistress had been deeply in love with Edward Seymour. Their estrangement hurt and pained her. Susan suspected that Mary loved him still even though they had quarreled so horribly. Durham was a salve that could so easily mend her broken heart. Susan knew that Mary could find it within her to fall deeply in love with this man as well. That the earl was deeply in love with her young mistress and would be more than obliging if she was ever inclined to let matters escalate into an affair.   
"They are so very different. Tom is..."  
"Tom is it? Not My Lord Durham? Or His Lordship? So familiar, Madame. "Susan teased Mary. "Go on!"  
Mary's blush deepened to scarlet, the flush reddening her already pink cheeks. "Tom is playful, tender, chivalrous and gallant. Viscount Beauchamp was aggressive, intense, powerful and forceful."   
"So which do you prefer?" Susan asked.   
"At the moment I believe I prefer a chivalrous and gallant man. Though nothing happened!"   
"But if a powerful and forceful one came seeking your bed once more?"   
"He would have to come crawling on his knees, contrite and pleading for forgiveness." Mary told Susan.   
"You Grace would make His Lordship grovel? Rumor has it that he has tossed himself into his work. To combat the pain, I would warrant. Madame, you left him in a dreadful state when you parted."   
"Who held me as I cried myself hoarse?" Mary reminded Susan. "I wish to no longer speak upon the matter."   
"Yes, Your Grace. Now what of this gallant earl?" Susan asked.   
"What of him?"   
"Did he use his devastating charm and that adorable charming smile in his attempt to seduce Your Grace? He is in love with you." Susan said to her mistress with a twinkle in her eyes, wringing the natural sponge out upon her back.   
"Is that such a horrible thing?" Mary asked looking back at Susan. "We are cousins, if you recall. We should love one another." Mary justified.   
"You quite fancy him!" Susan accused her mistress.   
"Yes, I fancy him. There is much to fancy. God Help Me!" Mary admitted for the first time shrinking in embarrassment covering her face with her hands, blushing once more.   
"Come now! There is nothing to be embarrassed about, Your Grace. There is much to fancy. I warrant you that. He is a handsome one. You will have the women swooning when he comes about." Susan observed.   
"That is all the women best be doing!" Mary warned, withdrawing her hands from her face. She was confused about her feelings for the earl and didn't want women such as Meg the Maid's actions to possibly incite her to worse inappropriate behavior than what had already passed between she and Tom Nicholls.   
"The lioness has staked her claim upon the ginger haired Durham fox." Susan observed.   
"Aye! Woe be to anyone that seeks to take that which he has sought to entrust into my care and keeping."   
"Fierce, are we not? Now out of the tub with you, My Fierce Lioness. Time Madame was dressed and at Mass. What gown do you choose to wear this day?"   
"The midnight blue velvet with the diamonds and sapphires. Please be certain that my green riding costume has been aired and brushed."   
"What jewelry do you wish to wear with the riding costume?"   
"The white pearls and diamonds, the set His Majesty gave me." Mary told Susan.   
"Excellent choices, Madame. Shall Your Grace be wearing the fox brooch?"   
"Susan!" Mary cried, feigning mortification. "Yes, of course. Thank you. That would be lovely." It would be a kind gesture, she reasoned, seeing as the earl had been so chivalrous.   
"I knew you would..." Susan stated, muttering something under her breath about Mary and Durham, foxes and lionesses that Mary could not completely catch but she could just imagine what the nature of Susan's natterings were about.   
__________________________________________________________________________________________________  
He was waiting for her in the back of the manor's chapel, looking like ten types of gorgeous, dressed in a crimson velvet doublet accented with gold thread and pearls, a gold chain with yellow diamonds and cream pearls with pendant of a gryphon wrought in gold and enamel with a ruby eye hanging from it. His slops were of the same fabric, black hose and shining black boots completed his costume.   
Mary could not resist allowing her eyes to sweep over him appreciatively from the top of his ginger head to the tips of his boots. He was quite appealing! She thought attempting not to blush like a Green Maid.   
"Does what you are gazing at please you?" He asked with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.   
"Yes. Your Lordship cuts quite a fine figure if I may be so bold as to say so." Mary replied. Oh, God! She was flirting with him!   
"Your Grace flatters me, Madame." Tom said.   
"Has Your Lordship made his confession?" Mary asked.   
"Aye. Father Cuthbert is worse off for it, I fear. Poor man almost had a fit of apoplexy. He is most honored to hear and is anticipating Your Grace's. However when Your Grace finishes unburdening Your Grace's sins he may succumb to that fit."   
"My Lord! You accuse me of and assume me of much wickedness!" Mary said with mock severity. "I did not succumb."   
"Because it was I that enticed Your Grace to such wickedness."   
"Does Your Lordship have any regrets?" She asked.   
"Honestly, none whatsoever." He replied with a twinkle in his eyes. "As I am assured of total Absolution for my Mortal Sins upon confession and penance."   
"And a promise never to sin, again, My Lord." Mary reminded him.   
"Then I have committed a Mortal Sin before I finish my confession for I do intend to sin most grievously as much as my mistress will entertain me. I am not through with you yet, Madame."   
"Provided Your Lordship's mistress is so inclined to endanger her is so inclined to endanger her immortal soul for Your Lordship's sake. Which Your Lordship's mistress has not been able to ascertain would be a prudent choice. Facing hellfire and eternal damnation are daunting prospects. I must seek out Father Cuthbert before Mass begins, it grows late."   
"Shall I await you here?" Thomas asked. "Mayhap I must in the event that the good father becomes unwell and needs assistance, hmmm?"   
"Do not be irreverent, Thomas." Mary said walking past him upon her way to the Confessional making note of the smile that passed over his handsome face when she used his Christian name.   
"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been a day since my last confession." Mary told the priest sitting on the other side of the Confessional screen, worrying her rosary between her fingers.   
Father Cuthbert began to recite the commencement prayer of the sacrament in Latin, "O most loving Trinity, and most worthy of all love, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, my God, I adore Thee. Behold this wretched creature at Thy feet, who desires to make her peace with Thee by means of a good Confession. But since, O my God, without Thy help she can do nothing but evil, I beseech of Thee, by the bowels of Thy compassion, to grant her light, that she may recollect all her sins; make her to perceive the hideousness and the enormity of sin, so that she may abhor and detest it with all her heart.  
Mary replied with the Misere, a recitation of Psalm 51, also in Latin.   
Father Cuthbert then continued, " Have mercy on us Lord, have mercy on us; for being devoid of all defense, we sinners offer to Thee, as Master, this supplication: Have mercy on us.  
"Behold, my child, Christ stands here invisibly receiving your confession. Do not be ashamed and do not fear, and do not withhold anything from me; but without doubt tell all you have done and receive forgiveness from the Lord Jesus Christ. Lo, His holy image is before us, and I am only a witness, bearing testimony before Him of all things which you say to me. But if you conceal anything from me, you shall have the greater sin. Take heed, therefore, lest having come to the physician, you depart unhealed."  
"Yes, Father Cuthbert. I confess to you, and to Almighty God that I have sinned most grievously against Him by breaking His Seventh Commandment."   
"You have committed adultery, my daughter? How can this be?"   
"I allowed a man to kiss me, not once, but twice. I also allowed him other liberties that I am ashamed to admit." Mary confessed.   
"How is that a sin? It was not Your Grace's Lord Husband, was it, Child?" Father Cuthbert asked, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from Mary's own lips.   
"No, Father, this man, he is married to another. I find myself attracted to him and have tried to pray my attraction to him away but to no avail. I cannot possibly avoid him since His Majesty, the King, my father has entrusted my care within this man's most capable hands as we travel to my manor of Hunsdon. What am I to do?" She asked.   
"Has he offered you anything, my daughter?"   
"He has offered himself as my champion."   
"So he holds Your Grace in the highest esteem? Are you in love with him? Is he in love with you?" Father Cuthbert pressed.   
"I, oh, I don't know! I am so confused. He has qualities that I could fall in love with." Mary replied. "I do love him as a kinsman and cousin but he does have qualities that I could fall in love with as a woman does of a man not of her kin."   
"Do you wish him to do more intimate things to your person besides kiss you?" Father Cuthbert asked, distressed at what he was hearing. So the feelings that the Earl of Durham had confessed to him regarding the duchess were possibly mutual? The matter could quickly escalate into a horrible scandal if both were not careful and discreet if they let their baser passions get the better of them. They were only human and two incredibly attractive people. "Remember my child to be honest and open your heart. It is only me and Almighty God listening. The seal of the Confessional is a sacred and binding one."   
"If we were free to do so and we found ourselves in such a relationship sanctified by Holy Mother Church." She replied, honestly, knowing that whatever she said to him would remain in the chapel. Father Cuthbert was a loyal servant of the church not a politician like so many other religious. He had been a member of her household for several months and was proving to be quite trustworthy and a True Man of God.   
"Even if it were not sanctified by Holy Mother Church?" Father Cuthbert pressed. He knew that Mary wasn't telling him how she was truly feeling. Something about the Earl of Durham had awakened some feelings in her. But what?   
"I don't know." Mary answered, honestly, biting her lip. "Father Cuthbert what am I to do?"   
"I do not have an immediate answer, my child. I suggest we both pray on the matter and with God's Good Grace He will show us a solution. I do absolve you of your sin and do not know of any penance to give you seeing as how conflicted you are about the situation. That is penance enough, my daughter. Go now, in Peace." Father Cuthbert finished the Confession not waiting for Mary to recite the Penitential Prayer. Father Cuthbert sighed. Hopefully, a solution to this problem could be found soon, peeking his head out of the Confessional to see the Earl of Durham waiting for the duchess, lazily leaning up against a wall, his long well-shaped legs crossed at the ankle. Sweet Blessed Mother! He was a strikingly handsome man! Father Cuthbert noticed truly assessing the earl for the first time. There would be trouble with this one! He thought. The ginger haired earl and the duchess would become entangled. He watched the pair walk down the center aisle to the front of the small chapel, genuflecting and crossing themselves in front of the Blessed Sacrament contained in the Tabernacle behind the altar, before sliding into the front pew, kneeling upon the embroidered kneeler pillows beside the baron and baroness.   
"Your Confession appears not to have distressed the Good Father did you not confess all of your sins? Father Cuthbert looks quite calm and composed." Thomas whispered in Mary's ear as the priest appeared at the altar.   
"Thomas!" Mary admonished him in a whisper. "Shhhh... Someone could hear you!"   
"If they did? I do speak true. I would bet money on the fact that Your Grace did not speak of all your sins." Thomas teased.  
"It appears that I have a purer conscience than you, My Lord, because I did just that." Mary whispered back as all those present in the chapel focused their attention to God and the Mass.   
After the Mass, they broke their fast in the Great Hall with the baron and baroness after they had eaten Mary went up to change into her fetching green riding habit certain that the fox brooch was affixed to the bodice. She then went to make her farewells, her women seeing to the last bit of packing of her belongings.   
Tom helped Mary to mount her horse being certain that his hands lingered on her person a wee bit longer than necessary looking up into her eyes, noting the high color in her cheeks as she tried not to blush. He then mounted his own , settling in the saddle, holding the reins as the pair trotted down the path of the manor house on their way to Hertfordshire side by side.   
"You are a master horseman, My Lord." Mary observed watching how the earl handled his spirited stallion.   
"You also ride well, Your Grace. Upon another fierce stallion. You could master any male with your many charms, all manner of males will fall under your spell and be captivated."   
"Flatterer, Why do you speak such nonsense? What manner of men would be captivated and would fall under my spell?" She asked.   
"Because what I speak is truth, Your Grace. There are many men, me and most of the men in the court that share those feelings, what man could not desire a golden haired English Rose in their bed to breed up handsome, tall, straight sons and lovely, sweet natured, well mannered daughters for England? I only regret that I married as a youth and did not wait for Your Grace to grow. I would have taken you naked or just in your shift if His Majesty had so desired to give you to me thusly."   
Tom was the second man that had expressed such regrets in regards to his present marital state wishing he had waited for her to flower, just as Edward Seymour had. Both men would have married her if they could.   
"Naked would have shocked the court, My Lord. Though my mother, Her Majesty the Late Queen did entertain thoughts that we were to be matched if a proper foreign prince could not have been found for me."   
"Another unification of Lancaster and York." Tom provided.   
"Tudor and York." Mary corrected.   
________________________________________________________________________  
Charles Brandon and Franco Hapsburg leaned over the table in the farmhouse's small front room, reading the dispatches that had just arrived, sorting them, making notes, their vein abuzz in their heads pounding with urgency. Through the window they heard the practice shots of soldiers in the meadow beside the house, and the shouted commands of Lord Aramis Lucco and their other superiors. It was a stifling hot day for mid October, flies found the table to be a shady place to congregate. Yet again, Franco and Charles waved them off. Lesser officers stood about the room talking in low voices.   
Aramis Lucco ducked under the low threshold and into the parlor. Brandon and Hapsburg looked up.   
"Your Graces." Aramis announced. "The Earl of Shrewsbury is here."   
Brandon and Hapsburg both nodded as the earl entered the room. "My Lord."   
"Your Graces." Shrewsbury was a man in his late thirties, of medium stature, with broad shoulders and thinning hair. He was distant kinsman to the king, his sister, Joan being married to Thomas, Earl of Durham.   
Brandon dismissed all the other officers including Lucco so he, Hapsburg and Shrewsbury could speak alone. Once the door has been closed, Brandon and Hapsburg sat on the edge of the table and gestured at the papers strewn across its surface. "We meet at a desperate moment." He said. "Not only are the rebels overwhelmingly strong against us, but even those men we have got we cannot altogether trust. Many of them, I swear, think the rebels' quarrels to be good and godly."   
Shrewsbury grunted softly. "Still, the king has urged us to attack as soon as possible."   
"His Majesty would not do so if he saw our plight with his own eyes. We have almost no horsemen, and most of those we have are rather the flower of the north. It is not possible, Your Lordship, to give battle knowing defeat to be a certainty." Franco added as Charles nodded his assent to what the king's new son-in-law was explaining to the earl.   
Shrewsbury glanced out the window at the soldiers drilling with Aramis Lucco and their sergeant. They were competent, certainly, but so few in number. "Do you have some other plan?"   
"We intend to parlay with them. If Your Lordship agrees." Shrewsbury glanced back sharply but Brandon held his hand so he could finish. "My Lord, our first duty is to stop them escaping and marching south. If they are talking then they are not marching At least we buy some time."   
"Then, " said Shrewsbury, the twist in his lips showing he was not entirely convinced."You, Your Grace of Suffolk, or His Grace of Bedford and Cambridge, here, must tell the king."


	14. Chapter XIV

"So I've ruined everything?!" - Lady Mary Crawley   
Cannot touch   
Cannot hold   
Cannot be together 

Cannot love   
Cannot kiss   
Cannot have each other 

Must be strong,   
And we must let go   
Cannot say   
What our hearts must know   
How can I not love you   
What do I tell my heart   
When do I not want you   
Here in my arms 

How does one walk away   
From all the memories   
How do I not miss you   
When you are gone 

Cannot dream   
Cannot share   
Sweet and tender moments 

Cannot feel   
How we feel   
Must pretend it's over 

Must be brave,   
And we must go on   
Must not say,   
What we've known all along 

How can I not love you   
What do I tell my heart   
When do I not want you   
Here in my arms 

How does one walk away   
From all the memories   
How do I not miss you   
When you are gone  
How can I not love you.. 

Must be brave,   
And we must be strong   
Cannot say,   
What we've known all along. 

How can I not love you   
What do I tell my heart   
When do I not want you   
Here in my arms 

How does one walks away   
From all the memories   
How do I not miss you   
When you are gone 

How can I not love you..  
When you are you gone..... "How Can I Not Love You?" As sung by Joy Enriquez from the movie, Anna and the King. 

 

Members of the king's Privy Council had gathered in the Council Chamber to hear the latest missives from His Grace the Duke of Bedford and Cambridge and His Grace the Duke of Suffolk. Henry leaned back in his chair, starting at Cromwell as he scanned the messages that had just arrived from the field. Sir Francis Bryan and Viscount Beauchamp, Richard Rich and the other councilors were silent around the table, watching their monarch on one end and the bearer of hard news on the other.   
At last Cromwell looked up from the papers. "Their Graces inform Your Majesty they have no choice in the matter but to treaty with them..."   
Henry narrowed his eyes and Cromwell hesitated. Then he continued. "In doing so, they hope to bring the gentry and nobles to treachery, that for their own sakes and their own interests they will disown the commons, if promised a pardon, as in fact what happened in Lincolnshire."   
Henry shook his head. "They are not to be pardoned, Mr. Cromwell. Not the leaders. Never the leaders." Several of the councilors nodded in quiet agreement. Others looked doubtful but held their tongues. "But, "Henry continued, "what terms does His Grace of Bedford and Cambridge and His Grace of Suffolk intend to offer the commons to make them go home?"   
"Their Graces do not go into details," said Cromwell. "But to allay Your Majesty's fears, His Grace of Bedford and Cambridge writes in his own hand, I beseech Your Majesty, my good and gracious father, to take good part whatever promises His Grace of Suffolk and I shall make to these rebels, for surely we will never keep any of them."   
That is what Henry liked to hear. He chuckled and tipped back his head. Franco Hapsburg was proving to be an able and adept son-in-law, he and Charles Brandon were the right men for the job after all, truly Machiavellian. "Any word from Her Grace of Bedford and Cambridge, Mr. Cromwell? How does Her Grace fair upon her travels?"   
"The Earl of Durham wrote that they were progressing apace to Her Grace's residence of Hunsdon and would reach Her Grace's home within the week, Your Majesty. It appears that Her Grace, His Lordship and their retinue were taking advantage of the local hospitality, spending the night with local gentry along their route when it is warranted. There is a private missive here from Her Grace to Your Majesty."   
"The week? Your Majesty, certainly that is overlong to travel." Viscount Beauchamp spoke out. "With Your Majesty's permission, I would leave and travel myself to see what the delay may be."   
Cromwell and Rich exchanged a look. So, Edward Seymour was keen to repair the rift between himself and the Duchess of Bedford and Cambridge? Cromwell knew that the estrangement was eating the man up inside though he did his best to try and hide his anguish. Not yet, it was not time for reconciliation. The Earl of Durham was still needed to amuse Her Grace whilst His Grace, her husband was up north with His Grace of Suffolk quelling the rebels. The earl's chivalrous respect and loyalty to Her Grace deserved that which His Lordship certainly was presently reaping the benefits of, Cromwell thought. Let the handsome northern earl warm Her Grace's bed until Cromwell, himself, thought otherwise. "Could be a manner of things, My Lord Beauchamp, the condition of the roads, the pace at which the party is traveling." He offered meeting Edward's look of sheer frustration. Cromwell could see how anxious the viscount was to get to her. He would have to wait.   
"Mr. Secretary, with all due respect..." Edward began.   
Cromwell shot him a look. "With all due respect, Lord Beauchamp, Her Grace is in the most capable hands of The Earl of Durham. Your talents and place is here to serve His Majesty."   
"Listen to Crum, Ned. He knows what is best." Henry said from his position at the head of the council table.   
"Yes, Majesty." Edward replied, pursing his lips, looking down at the table, defeated. "I will do whatever Your Majesty wishes."   
"Do not fret, Viscount Beauchamp, the earl is loyal and incredibly prudent. He will not let any harm or scandal touch Her Grace whilst she is in his care." Rich added to His Majesty's and Cromwell's words.   
Edward nodded mutely hiding his disappointment knowing that the matter was closed, trying not to allow himself feel the pain that was tearing at his heart.   
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
Later that evening, Edward sat at his work table in his office, mounds of crumpled paper about him, pausing ever so often to wipe his fingertips on a nearby linen cloth as his quill scratched against yet another piece of paper whilst he attempted to compose a letter to Mary.   
Pausing for a moment, he took a long drink from the goblet of wine beside his elbow, refilling it, pausing a moment to wipe his mouth on an embroidered large square of linen that was draped over one of his thighs. Stitched with his coat of arms, monogram and small Tudor roses, it had been a gift from Mary. Something she had created for him from a large scrap of fabric left over from the last shirt she had sewn for him, the shirt that he was presently wearing. Worrying his lower lip with his teeth, he went back to scribbling his missive, sighing in frustration as he scanned to contents of what he had written. "Damn it!" He exclaimed, laying his quill back into the silver ink pot, angrily crumpling up another piece of paper within his palms, tossing it onto the floor beside him. It landed next to the toe of one his boots. Edward kicked it under the table with a heavy sigh, running his fingers through his dark blond hair, closing his eyes. "Dear God, Mary. What went wrong?" He whispered followed by another heavy sigh beginning to write once more. "Do you truly think so little of me now after all I thought we meant to one another? I committed high treason; I risked my life for you. Please tell me that you do not despise me because I do not think that my heart could bear it if you told me that you did. Mary, please, as God as My Witness, I swear that I will do all that is in my power to preserve your safety, to be certain that you are always protected and secure. I promised you that I would do that, I will not break that vow, even if it involves shedding of, what you may view as, innocent blood. I will not have your death or the death of any future heirs that you may bear on my conscience because I did not do what had to be done. The rebels have to be destroyed not broken. Remember that breaks heal with the help of foreign powers. Destruction is the wiser course, would you not agree?" He voiced aloud as his pen scribble furiously against the paper the words that he was speaking. He added a few more private missives to the letter before placing his quill back in the silver ink pot. Sanding the page, blowing upon it to expedite the drying of the ink, once the ink was dry he folded it. Taking out a piece of sealing wax, he held it to the candle flame until some of the wax fell upon the fold of the paper which he sealed with a silver sealer that had his coat of arms etched into it. Grasping the goblet once again, Edward leaned back into his chair, taking another long drink, closing his eyes as he heaved another sigh, this one of relief, swirling the contents of the goblet about praying that his letter would be the first step in reconciliation with the woman he loved and who had stolen his heart.   
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
Mary and Lord Durham along with their entourage rode into the courtyard of Baron Richard Brook's manor. The baron and his Lady Wife, Alice had been loyal supporters of the Late Queen Catherine of Aragon and had great affection for the Spanish Queen's daughter, the Duchess of Bedford, Cambridge and Cadiz as she was now known. The couple had also supported the rise of the present queen. Lending their manor for a tryst for the Royal Couple before King Henry and Jane Seymour had married. The Baron and his wife were waiting to greet the duchess and her handsome escort when they arrived. Grooms dressed in the livery colors of red and blue going to help with the baggage and goods as the baron and his wife and family watched the Earl of Durham help Mary dismount from her horse.   
Tom was mindful that he did not allow her to slither down his front even though he wished her to; the settling of his gloved hands on her tiny waist was enough to cause her to physically react to his nearness and touch. He could not resist the twitch of his lips when Mary's eyes widened, her lips parting, swallowing nervously, feeling the sexual sparks crackling between them especially when their bodies skimmed one another's as he set her upon her feet.   
"Thank you, My Lord." Mary murmured trying to hide the stain of blush on her pretty cheeks, her gaze direct, looking up into his blue-gray eyes, noting the dilated pupils. He had felt it too!   
"It was my pleasure, Your Grace." Tom replied, inclining his head, the corners of his mouth curling up into a satisfied smile, delighted at her reaction. She was painfully aware of him and their mutual attraction. Holding his hands about her waist a wee bit longer than necessary, something that was not lost on Father Cuthbert, who stood nearby.   
Oh, Holy Mother! The trouble has just begun! The priest thought watching the pair. He hope that Durham's chivalric nature and Mary's devotion to her faith would prevent them from becoming involved further than what had already transpired between them. But he sincerely doubted that would come to pass. He knew the look of hunger in Durham's eyes, knew that desire and lust must be riding on the earl. The duchess had the earl enthralled, of which fact Father Cuthbert knew that Mary was well aware. It confused and intrigued her at the same time. She knew it was a sin but she wished to test her powers of attraction upon another man other than her Lord Husband (and if rumor proved true, Viscount Beauchamp). Thomas Nicholls was close kin to Her Grace with much to recommend him. A natural choice, Father Cuthbert was sorry that His Majesty had not picked someone that was close to Her Grace but did not hold the attraction for her as this Northern Earl did. Thomas Seymour or one of her Suffolk cousin's husbands would have been perfect. But alas, His Majesty had chosen this one, the one that had a palatable attraction and passion for Her Grace.   
"Welcome to Blenheim Place, Your Grace, Your Lordship. Your Grace Honor's us with your presence. I pray that you will find your stay with us most enjoyable." Lord Richard exclaimed warmly. "May I make known to you my Lady Wife, Alice and my daughters, the ladies, Lady Eleanor Ward and Lady Edith and my ward, Lady Maud Fenton?" 

The four women came forward curtsying to Mary. 

"Your Grace." They said in unison. 

"Thomas, Lord Durham" Lord Brook said, the three young women's eyes alighted on the earl. Lady Eleanor looking up through her lowered lashes and then looking down in an attempt at painfully obvious flirtation that set Mary's teeth on edge. A widow with several young children she appeared to be ripe for a dalliance and was measuring Tom Nicholls as a prospective lover. A situation Mary could not abide. She wanted to slap that cat-like smile off Eleanor Ward's face but retained her composure. 

"Lady Brook we have been travelling all day. I trust that there are means for His Lordship and me to wash away the stink from our travels? A hot bath perhaps and then some refreshment?" Mary asked sweetly. 

"Yes, Your Grace." Lady Brook replied. She was quite aware of the duchess's strange habit of frequently bathing in the nude. It must be an old Moorish practice adopted by Queen Catherine and Aragon and passed down to her daughter. "A bath, a refreshment and a rest if Your Grace is so inclined. There will be dancing this evening if Your Grace desires." 

"Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Brook. Your Ladyship is too kind. If I may be directed to my chamber? I reek of horse and require a bath." 

____________________________________________________________________________________

Mary lay on the four poster bed in the manor's finest guest chamber dressed in a green cashmere silk lined robe, resting. The bath had been refreshing, her body felt lush after being rubbed with jasmine scented cream. She closed her eyes, her mind drifting off, pictures of Edward Seymour clouded her mind, pains stabbing at her heart as it constricted with pain, she shook them away on a sob, her eyes filling with tears which she blinked away. Her mind drifting to the Earl of Durham which made her turn over onto her side with a sigh, her fingers tracing the patterns in the embroidered comforter beneath her. What was she going to do about her obvious attraction to him? She had tried praying it away but to no avail. She could not avoid him. Should she allow him to mend her broken heart as he so desired? It was most flattering to be desired by a handsome man. Her new husband was up north with a man that he clearly favored over her, the man she loved had broken her heart. She had learnt that men found her incredibly attractive and not just for her political position. Should she test her wings with a kinsman that she knew she could trust? How far was she willing to go? She daren't chance jeopardizing the succession by having an affair even though Don Franco had told her that any child she presented to him he would recognize as his own. What if that child became King of England? Mary bit her lower lip in vexation. What was she to do? More importantly what did she wish to do?

She was broken out of her reverie when she heard a knock at the door. "Come!" She called. 

"I hope that I am not intruding upon Your Grace's idle. If Your Grace is so inclined I was praying that we could read together. I brought 'Malory's Morte D'Arthur." Tom Nicholls said moving from behind the door, the volume in his hand. 

Mary instantly say up when the earl entered the room, making certain that she was covered from neck to ankles in her robe, attempting to bring the opposing sides of the V-neckline together to hide the expanse of chest that was visible, unwillingly exposing a royal leg from foot to mid-thigh in her attempt to be modest. 

Tom could not resist chuckling. "Do not attempt to hide yourself from me. I have seen all of Your Grace though through wet near transparent fabric." He said, his eyes riveted upon the bare skin of her leg. "You are quite finely made as the statues of Venus in the ruins of Rome."   
"Fie, My Lord! Your Lordship speaks of being my champion but you seek to remain in my company given my present state of dress or lack thereof. If anyone were to find Your Lordship here they would believe the worst."   
"Would you like them to? A wee bit of scandal can enhance one's reputation."   
"For a gentleman to a woman it can bring ruination."   
"Married women are allowed certain liberties forbidden to unmarried virgins." Tom countered.   
Entertaining men that are not their husbands?" Mary asked.   
"We are close kin and I have been instructed by His Majesty the King to keep Your Grace protected by any means possible."   
"Does that include compromising my reputation? Do you find me that irresistible that Your Lordship cannot stay away?"   
"I will not deny that I find Your Grace a most beautiful and desirable woman. I believe I have made my feelings toward Your Grace rather clear." Tom said honestly.   
"Feelings that could land Your Lordship locked in the Tower of London and my marriage and Good Name in tatters." Mary said.   
"You cannot honestly admit that you feel nothing for me for we both know otherwise." Tom stated.   
Mary felt her cheeks begin to burn because what he said was true. "Please do not say such things." She admonished him.   
"Why? Because you are a virtuous but you wish to sin in the worst way? Come now, let me mend your broken heart."   
He was sore tempting. Her self control and resolve were wavering. "I... No..." She stuttered.   
"I promise that you will not regret it. I can take you to Paradise if you would but let me."   
"You blaspheme!"   
"No, Darling. I speak the truth."   
"So confident. Paradise?"   
"Doubting Thomasina, why don't you try me?" He asked with a rakish smile. "Experience the pleasure. You know that you want to."   
"Is there only pleasure?" She asked.   
Tom chuckled. "Curious as a cat. Would you care for a taste?" He asked, leaning over her on the bed, his eyes sweeping over her, contemplating the delectable charms hidden beneath her robe, pupils dilating with desire and lust.   
"What of the book, My Lord?"   
"My attention has turned to other more important matters than reading." He said his mouth inches from hers, hand reaching out, skimming down from the sash of her robe down her hip stopping to rest on a spot on her inner thigh, gripping her flesh possessively. "I am going to kiss you right there. Tonight." He vowed his lips crushing against hers in a fiery demanding kiss.   
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
Later that evening, Mary and Thomas sat at the high board in the manor's Great Hall between the Lord and Lady watching a group of traveling players enact tales from King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table.   
From her place down the high board, Lady Eleanor watched and seethed when it became quite apparent that the Earl of Durham could not keep his eyes from the Duchess of Bedford and Cambridge. Every time Eleanor tried to catch the earl's eye he was gazing adoringly at Mary Tudor. There must be an explanation. She had overheard the servants gossiping that His Majesty the King had appointed Lord Durham as the duchess's champion and guardian seeing as Her Grace's husband was in the north with the Duke of Suffolk quelling the rebels. Mayhap he was taking his duties to heart? Eleanor huffed. Who was she fooling? The earl clearly fancied the duchess. Eleanor knew the look in a man's eyes when he was consumed with lust and desire for a woman. How he would look at her hungrily as though he would devour her. The way that Thomas Nicholls was watching Mary Tudor made it painfully clear that he was totally captivated by her which made the widow bristle with jealousy. The engaging earl should be looking at her not that flame haired trollop!   
The players finished their performance to resounding applause taking their bows.   
"Quite a fine performance, Good Sir." Mary said motioning the head of the troupe over with a flick of her hand, removing an engraved gold ring from one of her fingers she held it out to the man whose eyes widened in alarm. "Use it to purchase whatever you need. Come and see me at Hunsdon in a fortnight. You may have permission to perform in the village for several days. I know that the Harvest Fair will soon be upon us.   
"May God Bless you, Your Grace! Your Grace is more than generous. We will strive to be worthy of the great kindness you have shown us." He said bowing, kissing Mary's hand, hurrying off.   
Once the players were gone and the hall was cleared it was time for dancing. The musicians struck up a lively tune.   
Lord Brook led Mary to the dance floor to open the dancing, moving with great ease for a man in his late middle years.   
"Ah, Your Grace! If I were but twenty years younger! But then I would have to compete with the earl." Lord Brook complimented Mary as they moved about in the intricate steps of the dance.   
"You flatter me, My Lord."   
"There is much to flatter, Your Grace. It is good to see Your Grace restored to favor and finally married. To a Hapsburg, no less! His Majesty supports and Imperial alliance?"   
"His Majesty received many benefits. Don Franco had a fleet of trade ships that travel all over including the New World. The king stands to prosper greatly. When His Majesty prospers so do the people of England." Mary explained.   
"My sacrificing his eldest daughter to the Emperor's bastard brother though Your Grace prospers, as well. Lands and manors restored, not to mention the new ones acquired upon your marriage. Don Franco undoubtedly settled a portion of the trade ship's profits upon Your Grace as part of the Marriage Contract. Your Grace will soon become the richest woman in England if not Christendom." Lord Brook observed.   
"A matter the Privy Council considers most seriously. With great wealth comes power." Mary stated.   
"And Your Grace married to a Hapsburg. No wonder His Majesty has the Queen's elder brother protecting Your Grace and now the Earl of Durham."   
"The Earl of Durham was commanded to escort me to Hunsdon."   
"His Lordship is a powerful northern lord. His wife is daughter to the Earl of Shrewsbury. No wonder he was kept in the south." Lord Brook said, his meaning all too clear.   
"Lord Brook! Lord Durham's loyalty to the House of Tudor is unquestionable." Mary admonished the baron, knowing exactly what he was referring to.   
Lord Brook grinned. "So he is, so loyal that he must keep Your Grace constantly in his sights, his gaze never faltering or wavering. Now His Lordship must claim Your Grace for a dance or..." His words were cut off as Lord Durham was allowed to cut in.   
"My Lord Durham!"   
"Your Grace!" Tom exclaimed, smiling broadly, taking her hands within his as they moved in the intricacies of the dance, setting off the sexual sparks between them. twisting beneath their arms, her front brushing against his, her head lifting to meet his smouldering gaze, his eyes hungry, the air between them snapping and crackling with sexual tension.   
Withdrawing his hands from hers, one went about her tiny waist, pulling her close in the subsequent figures of the country dance.   
"Have you been enjoying this evening's entertainment, My Lord?" Mary asked.   
"The players were very good though I did find Sir Gawain a tad bit overdramatic in his presentation and Queen Guinevere's voice cracked in several places." Tom commented.   
"Though far better than some of the presentations I have seen at court." Mary defended the players.   
"Is Your Grace entertaining thoughts of patronizing them?" Tom asked.   
"I will speak with His Grace, My Lord Husband. I do not believe that it is right and proper for a female member of the Royal Family to be patronizing a troupe of actors."   
"Royalty sets precedents. His Majesty the King would certainly approve. The king supports artisans and musicians why would he object if his eldest daughter supported a bunch of actors?" Tom remarked. "Go ahead, do it! It is a grand idea and will certainly assist in the troupe being welcomed by more noblemen in the country with Your Grace as patroness. They will be clamoring to have the Duchess of Bedford and Cambridge's Players perform for them."

Mary smiled. "Your Lordship is very reassuring."   
"Am I now? Would Your Grace reciprocate? Reassure me of the high esteem that you hold me in. Let me read with Your Grace. Our chambers are connected. I could come when everyone has gone to bed." He posed, speaking so she could only hear his voice low and seductive, beguiling her to misbehave. "No one need ever know. I will be discreet. I promise, Darling."   
"What of My Honor and Good Name? If we are caught..." Mary posed nervously. He was so incredibly tempting.   
"I will protect you. Your Grace need not fret. Nothing untoward will happen. Remember I have promised to protect Your Grace. You may trust me." Tom tried reassuring her. "Go on and give into temptation."   
"I cannot. Not tonight."   
"If Your Grace decides to change her mind you know where to find me, right through that door. I will not leave my bedchamber. If Your Grace needs me for any purpose or reason call for me and I will come. I am yours to command." Tom said, he was disappointed but he would not scare her away by forcing the issue. He would wait, allowing the intense sexual attraction between them to continue to build to a fever pitch, where she would not be able to stand it anymore, when that occurred she would be begging him for it. "Just promise me that you will keep me out of Lady Eleanor's clutches." He added.   
"How does Your Lordship propose that I do that? I am not well versed in the romantic games of men and women. Must I brand you as mine in some fashion? Stake my claim? Does Your Lordship not find Lady Eleanor pleasing? I hear that she is a widow and ripe for an assignation. When you could not have me you took Lady Misseldon to your bed. Why not Lady Ward?"   
"I thought you had forgiven me my error in judgment regarding Lady Misseldon. Why must my great folly be dragged out once again? It was only once. I barely even completed the act and when I did it was your name I cried out. I will not have my honor questioned." He snapped becoming a wee bit testy. "It was a foolish mistake. I was hurting because you were with him. I needed something to soothe the pain."   
"Viscount Beauchamp, it is rumored, has tossed himself into the affairs of the realm, finding his solace in his work not with the likes of that whore!" Mary shot at him. "At least he does not bed another! He is loyal and constant! Not the same can be said of you, My Lord! If you were pining so desperately for me you would not be in bed with another woman!"   
"You were jealous of the little slut of a maid last night when she was making it quite clear that she was more than willing if I wanted her. You practically growled at her like a lioness telling her to leave!"   
Mary looked up at him, her lower lip trembling. "So what if I was! She was being far too forward. Her behavior was disgraceful in the presence of a Royal Duchess." Mary stated.   
"Will Your Grace be growling at Lady Ward?" Tom asked. "I am so incredibly sorry if I hurt you. That was not my intent. I was a selfish knave. I realize that now. I was only thinking of numbing the pain I was feeling because it was so obvious that you wanted him over me. What am I to do to convince you how very sorry I am? Shall I go down up my knees and repent my sins against you? I am prepared to do whatever it takes." 

"If I feel as though she is getting far too forward with Your Lordship? Yes, I will. She may even learn that I have claws and teeth. Yes, do that! Kneel before me and repent your sins! But not here in front of all these people,in private. I want Your Lordship upon your knees before me in private." She said, enjoying the power she could exert over him. He was hers to command in all things and she knew it.   
"If that is what it takes. I will do as Your Grace commands me." He said, wondering if she truly knew how deliciously enticing her words sounded to his ears.  
Mary smiled smugly. Why was the notion of Tom Durham twisted about little finger so delightful? "As you should, My Lord."   
Tom grinned. "You know that I would do anything for you."   
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
Later that evening, Tom sat up in his large lonely bed; he had dismissed his gentlemen for the night. The candelabrum on one of the bedside tables shed enough light on the book that he was reading. The fire crackled merrily in the fireplace.   
He heard her cry out in distress through the door that connected their bedchambers. Tossing the covers off, he grabbed the crimson colored silk brocaded robe from the foot of the bed, slipping it over his naked body he quickly belted it, listening to her cry out once more. He dashed to the door, opening it, stepping over the threshold, making his way through the candlelit room to the large four poster bed.   
She was sitting up against the pillows her shoulders shaking as she sobbed.   
"Oh, My Darling!" Tom cried, his voice deep with concern, climbing on the bed and drawing her into his arms.   
Mary allowed him, seeking comfort in his strong embrace, burying her face into his chest, continuing to cry, her tears leaving wet splotches on the crimson silk of his robe and the exposed bare skin of his chest. "There was so much blood! So much... He cried out and accused me... His eyes hollow... Accusing me of being a Jezebel, a seductress."   
"Who Darling?" Tom asked.   
"The Earl of Merioneth. Jaime Lannister." Mary said through sniffles, her voice muffled next to Tom's chest.   
"Shhhh... Shhhh... Mary... Mary... My Darling, It was only a bad dream. Only a dream." Tom soothed her, rubbing a shoulder, his breath warm against her temple his lips pressing gentle kisses against it to try and calm her.   
Mary shifted closer in his arms, turning her face to the source of those sweet tender kisses, whimpering in desperation as Tom kissed the tears from her cheeks moving to her mouth, finding her lips warm and inviting.   
"I am here, Love. There is no need to fear. Let me take your distress away." Tom's breath was hot against her mouth, which was wet and swollen now from his kisses.   
"Yes!" She whispered hotly, her heart pounding in her chest. What was the matter with her where she wanted him so desperately to make her forget the horrible nightmare? The thought of him doing as much made her body burn with desire for him and the anticipation of what he would do? She could not deny it, she was aching for this man, wanting his touch, for him to caress and kiss her in a deliciously intimate and wicked manner. "My honor?"   
"Is completely safe and protected within my keeping. There will be no scandal, I promise." Tom reassured her, his fingers deftly undoing the pearl buttons at the neck of her nightgown, pushing neckline down over a shoulder, nuzzling the side of her neck, planting a trail of burning kisses to the soft place where her neck and shoulder met. His lips scorching her skin, moving lower nipping and laving her clavicle to a pale shoulder, biting it gently, reversing his trail of kisses venturing to the exposed round full breast, cupping it in a hand. "You have the most beautiful bosom. Each breast is a perfect orb, just enough for a man to hold within his hand." He complimented, inclining his head, planting feather light kisses over the swell of flesh, mouth closing over the peaked nipple, his tongue swirling about it.   
Mary gasped at the new sensation biting her lower lip, shards of molten heat traveling from her breast to down her stomach to settle within her core, which began to ache with longing. "Oh, Tom!" She moaned, quietly, moving her body closer to the source of exquisite pleasure, feeling his free hand begin to tug on the hem of her nightgown slipping beneath the fine Cathay silk, snaking up a smooth lily-white calf.   
"Your skin is so soft and smooth, like the finest satin." He said, his mouth traveling from her nipple to the valley between her breasts, unbuttoning several more buttons, the nightgown slipping off her shoulders baring her from shoulders to hips, leaving her exposed to his hungry gaze.   
"You are so incredibly beautiful!" He stated his eyes devouring every inch of her. Rounded in all the right places with a waist a man could probably span with his hands. "Even more so with a gentle flush to your skin." He chuckled mouth lingering on the smooth skin of her flat stomach as his free hands lifted the hem of her nightgown about her thighs, inching it high so it was bunched about her hips.   
His lips descended down her stomach making her shiver with pleasure. Tom positioning himself between her legs, drawing her down to lay flat on her back upon the bed, kissing about the perimeter of her navel, grazing the skin with his teeth, making Mary squirm and moan, shards of white hot desire snaking through her setting her body aflame. 

Sweet Jesu! She thought feeling the pointed tip of his talented tongue plunge into her navel, swirling about then licking the soft tender skin of her lower belly down to the very center of her. His breath hot on the curls covering her sex.   
Blowing on them, his mouth trailing a path across to the spot he had grasped with his hand earlier that day, biting her skin gently, branding her as his, gently reversing his direction, traveling up her inner thigh to her cunny. "Mine!" He stated, the scruff on his cheeks and upper lip chafing the soft skin sending shivers down her spine.   
"Tom! Oh! Oh!" She whispered hoarsely.   
"You can be a wee bit louder, Darling. The whole house is abed and asleep, but for the guards and they are trained to be discreet. Just do not scream too loudly when you reach Paradise." Tom teased her. "Nothing will stain your Good Name. I promise."   
"You rogue. Paradise, you say? You are going to take me to Paradise?" She asked.   
"Of course! You doubt it?" He inquired. "I will have to show you." He closed his mouth about her sex, his tongue seeking her hidden jewel flicking and swirling about his hands going beneath her buttocks, cupping the twin moons of her lovely plump arse, digging the pads of his fingers into her cheeks. holding her steady.   
His tongue! Christ and All His Saints and Martyrs what was he doing to her with his deliciously talented tongue? The pleasure! Oh God! She had never felt like this. She would certainly melt into the mattress her body burning flame hot with desire, her breath coming in short hot pants.   
"MMMMMMmmmm! Oooooooooh! Oooooh!" She moaned, a low throaty sensual sound , almost shrieking when he slipped a finger insider her passage moving it in and out slow at first then quickening the pace. Grasping handfuls of the bedclothes, Mary tossed her head back and forth against the down filled pillows, her eyes closed, keening his name over and over in ecstasy, feeling the tension begin to build, her stomach muscles tightening as her brought her closer and closer to where he had promised to take her. She was certainly on her way to Paradise it felt so marvelously wonderful as she got closer and closer. She grabbed one of the pillows shoving it into her mouth to stifle her screams, her body trembling and shaking with a violent orgasm as true to his word, Tom took her to Heaven.   
"How was Paradise, Darling?" He asked, withdrawing his finger from her, coming up to lay beside her, kissing her shoulder tenderly, nuzzling her neck, nipping it affectionately with his teeth.   
"Absolutely wonderful!" She said after withdrawing the pillow from her mouth, holding it against her chest.   
"Do you feel better?" He added, dashing his fingertips over her stomach, swirling about her navel, teasingly.   
Mary shivered beneath his expert touch. "Yes!"  
"Good." He said, drawing away from her, crawling off the bed.   
"Where are you going?" She asked, concerned and missing the warmth of his embrace, turning about to find where he had got to.   
"Down upon my knees in private to beg your forgiveness. Better now than never. I do not wish to have this matter hanging over us." He said, kneeling in front of her on the rug beside the bed, bowing his head, the golden highlights in his ginger colored hair shimmering like burnished gold in the candlelight, inclining his head. "I, Thomas, Earl of Durham do most honestly and truthfully repent the sins and transgressions that I have committed against the Most Dear and Beloved Lady of My Heart, Body and Soul, Her Grace, Mary, Duchess of Bedford, Cambridge and Cadiz. Of which sins and transgressions I have committed wittingly and unwittingly, I am truly sorry. I ask God's and Her Grace's forgiveness. I pray that they may find it in them to be merciful."   
Mary watched him intently as he did what she had asked of him, her misty eyes meeting his when he lifted his head.   
The tears threatening to fall from her eyes made his heart ache. How deeply he had hurt her. He had been a selfish knave. He had made a grave, almost disastrous mistake that may have been cause for her never becoming his.   
"Oh, My Dearest Darling! Mary, Darling!" He exclaimed, climbing back upon the bed, drawing her into his embrace, burying her face into one of his shoulders, as she clung to him seeking comfort.   
Running his hands up and down her back, he whispered reassuring and tender words in one of her ears, pulling her closer against him. "Shhhhhh... Shhhhhh... I am forgiven? I am so, so deeply sorry. You know how sorry I am?" He asked, his voice hoarse with emotion against her ear, planting a tender kiss upon it. How it pained him to know that what he had done had truly and profoundly hurt her. He knew that she was weighing his behavior and that of Lord Beauchamp's in the exact situation and that he had been found sorely wanting. He sincerely regretted not seducing her when the opportunity had presented itself when she had been dressed so provocatively. Fool! He admonished himself.   
She did not know what to say. He had gone down on his knees, he had told her many times how truly sorry he was. How horrible he felt from having hurt her. Ned had fought with her over matters of faith and doctrine, the purpose of rebellion. This was a matter of sexual fidelity and manner of a personal level. Could she truly trust him? "I do. Can you find it within yourself to be true only to me as my champion?"   
"You know I can. Give me a chance to prove myself. I can hardly breathe from thinking of you. Your image is before my eyes in each waking moment. I love and adore you, Mary..." He whispered, titling her chin up, lifting it from where it was nested in the crook of his shoulder, his lips kissing a tear that had trickled down one of her cheeks, tasting the saltiness on his tongue. "It will be alright. Everything will be alright. Please do not cry. I will make it all better. I promise. No tears, My Darling. Please no tears."   
His voice was a soothing caress, drawing her into its warmth and promise. Closing her eyes, she titled her chin up a fraction just as his mouth found hers.   
Tom kissed her tenderly, his mouth gently pressing against hers, caressing, Mary tasting herself upon his lips reminding her of the powerful pleasure she experience in his intimate embrace and the wickedly delicious ways he could make her feel.   
She wrapped her arms about his neck, drawing him down atop her, the pair still kissing, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips, seeking entrance.   
"Open for me, Darling." He whispered hoarsely against her mouth.   
Mary's lips parted allowing his tongue inside, the pair fencing and swirling about each other, Mary tasting a wee bit more of herself, finding it oddly erotic, his chest crushing her breasts, the kisses deepening.   
Tom tangled his slender fingers in her red-gold hair, continuing his sensual assault on her mouth, Mary frantically trying to find the sleeves of her nightgown, which she did, slipping her arms within them.  
"You know it is a Mortal Sin to hide such beauty?" Tom admonished her, rolling off her to allow her to make some sense of order to herself, her hands going to the placket of pearl buttons, Tom staying them. "Don't. Do allow me to admire and appreciate your loveliness."   
Mary cheeks flamed with embarrassment, the flush extending down her chest, tingeing her skin a fetching pink. "Is it?" She asked.   
"Oh, yes. Especially skin such as yours, pale alabaster with that lovely rosy tint to it not to mention the absolutely adorable freckles sprinkled over it. You have them in the most charming places, near your navel, on a hip bone, as though the Good Lord in his Mercy, decided to place them on portions of your person where a man might linger and admire. Calling attention to those many gifts He had bestowed upon you. Such a reproach to His work to cover them up."   
"Then who will be certain that I will not catch a chill if I am to remain bared to your gaze and how do you propose to do it?" She asked.   
"There are many ways, Mary, of generating the necessary heat between us so that you do not find yourself with an ague." Tom explained, his thin lips turning up into a roguish smile.   
"What do you propose?" She asked.   
"What I truly want can wait until we get to your manor of Hunsdon." Tom said. "But we can get up to some lovely mischief beforehand. The things I can show you!"   
"What is it that you truly want?" She asked, she had an idea but wanted him to say the words.   
"I want to be your lover." He stated. "With Don Franco away and otherwise occupied, you need a man to satisfy your carnal needs and desires. Why not me? His Majesty also expects and heir but I do believe he cares not who fathers it knowing Don Franco's predilection for gentlemen."   
"The king is advocating I have a potentially bastard child one that could possibly be England's next king?" Mary asked incredulous.   
"It doesn't matter who the father is since His Grace, your husband, has said in council that any issue from your marriage he will recognize as his lawfully begotten heirs." Tom explained. "The parentage and legitimacy of several kings has been questioned down through the centuries. The First William was a bastard it did not stop him from ruling."   
"But he claimed the throne by right of conquest." Mary retorted back. "I cannot believe that Franco would set me out to be covered like some prized brood mare in the event that his seed did not take root in my womb!"   
"England needs a male heir. You know that as much as I do." Tom said.   
"Because Englishmen do not believe a woman can rule. Has no one learnt the lessons from my grandmother, Isabella of Castile?" Mary asked.   
"That was Spain. This is England, Darling." Tom tried to explain.   
"I do not understand the difference. A woman is thoroughly capable of being an administrator, leading armies, and engaging in all the other aspects of government a man engages in not matter which land that God sees fit to set her as sovereign!" Mary shot back. "My daughters, when I am blessed with issue, will be raised to rule."   
"Will you give my offer serious consideration?" Tom asked.   
"Was that part of the bargain, Tom? When you were asked to be my protector and champion was it also understood that Franco and my father would look the other way if you climbed into my bed? No accusations of treason to be leveled against Your Lordship because it would be for the comfort and security of the realm?" Mary asked. "Because my husband prefers to lie with men and therefore cannot be assured to father children upon his bride. Though we were closeted for three full days when we were first married. Was that part of the bargain as well? He was to keep me in bed for those three days to see if he could father a child upon me? Then he was released of his obligations. I know he loves me, but he does find that handsome Italian more appealing."   
"Find pleasure in other aspects of your marriage. Enjoy the companionship that he affords you. I know that he is a wonderful companion. I believe that Don Franco is one of those gentlemen that enjoys men but also likes to have a woman in his bed especially one as beautiful as Your Grace." Tom said.   
"So I have been given the go ahead to seek comfort elsewhere whilst he is away with his lover upon His Majesty's business?" Mary asked, trying to absorb the intricate politics of it all.   
"Yes."   
"Comfort with a courtier that my father and husband both approve of. Did they vet several to see who the most appropriate choice? Or were you the most obvious candidate given our kinship and your rank as an earl?" Mary asked.   
"I also had the most to recommend me being fiercely intelligent, well-mannered and the fairest to look upon." Tom told her, with a grin.   
Mary could not help but laugh. "You know, Tom that pride is one of the Seven Deadly Sins." She reminded him.   
"I am not being prideful, Mary, I am merely stating the facts."   
"Was your skill in more intimate matter considered as well? Behind closed doors, of course. Because I am certain that His Majesty may be aware of those as well or certainly suspects." Mary said.   
"It was not discussed per se but I am certain that His Majesty knows that I possess knowledge in matters that will please a woman, most importantly that which will please his daughter." Tom said.   
"And what may that be?"   
"I believe that I demonstrated some of those talents this evening. I did take you to Paradise, Mary. There is much more I can show you if you would but allow me." He said, brushing the tips of his fingers from the base at the hollow of her throat down between the valley of her breast to her abdomen making her shiver in anticipation.   
"There is more?" She asked.   
"So much more, My Darling, we just scratched the surface. Come straddle my head. I will show you yet another way to reach Paradise." He posed. "I promise that you will find it most deliciously satisfying."   
"Is it proper to engage in such intimacies beneath our host's roof? Would it not be an insult to his hospitality to behave in such a manner? Indulging your carnal appetites and lusts, Tom?"   
"Indulging? I am in love with you. Do you understand that? I will to express my love for you in the most intimate manner. I will be patient, waiting to have you completely, but that does not rule out engaging in other pleasures. Straddle my head, Mary. You will not regret it, quite the contrary. Rest assured that we will not be insulting Lord Brook nor his hospitality. I will be certain to send word to His Majesty the King that our stay with the baron was, erm, most pleasurable." Tom said a mischievous smile playing about his mouth. He crooked a finger. "Come now, Darling. Come straddle my head and experience the ride of your life."  
Mary felt her resolve crumbling. He was so tempting, promising more ethereal pleasure. She could not deny that her body was aching for him. She sat up, lifting her arms up about her head, as the nightgown slid up over her body, she could feel the air hit her now naked skin, making her nipples pucker slightly. Her hands finally slipping out the sleeves, the garment completely off her, tossing it on the foot of the bed, Mary shaking her head, her hair falling about her shoulders and down her back to her tiny waist, glowing like molten copper in the candlelight, the waves curling about. "I never tire of looking at you!" He exclaimed, letting his eyes move over her luscious form, his eyes dark with naked desire and need, lingering on her near perfect breasts, the curve of her waist, that made a man want to encircle it with his hands and pull her close against him, the roundness of her hips down her shapely legs, slender and elegant. Oh, she was lovely! Simply lovely! "Face my feet, Mary, this way you may pleasure me if you wish."   
Mary did as she was told, moving up the bed upon her knees, positioning herself, steadying her palms upon his shoulders, slinging a leg over, lowering herself upon his face, sliding her hands down his shoulders to the sash of his robe, untying it with nimble fingers, watching his erecting spring free.  
Moaning when she felt his tongue dart about here and there, touching and teasing everything sensitive, grasping his hardness within a hand, bending her head, her hair falling about his lower belly, teasing it as her mouth closed over the tip of his member, giggling in triumph when she heard him hiss with ecstatic pleasure.   
"Oh, God!" His voice muffled between her pale thighs.   
It was indeed the ride of her life; she had never experienced anything like it. Ned had been talented but even he was not privy to some of Thomas Durham's tricks, tricks that left her throbbing with need. Mary continuing her oral attentions until the pair of them exploded together, she swallowing his tribute, pressing herself against his face, feeling his rough cheeks chafe against the tender skin of her inner thighs, rocking back and forth atop him, letting his organ slip from her mouth, biting her lower lip to stifle a scream , her body pulsing and throbbing. "Oh, Tom! Tom!" She breathed, the intensity of the orgasm gradually subsiding, trying to regain her composure, moving off him, he caught the back of her calf, pulling her back to him, dancing his fingertips up to the tender spot at the back of her knee, making her squirm. "Tom!" She cried, attempting to jerk her leg away.   
"So you are ticklish?" He teased trailing his fingertips along her sensitive skin, swirling up to her thigh.   
Mary's leg muscles contracted at the contact. "Tom! Please! Let me go!" She pleaded, giggling.   
"Never." He said, chuckling, not about to release her, delighted with her completely visceral reactions to his caresses. "Oh, no, Love! I am not about to let you go!" His hands moving up her thigh to her hip, grasping it, pulling her closer to him as he sat up, moving over her. "Ah! I believe I have caught myself a fiery vixen! Or is it a lioness, I have captured?" He teased her.   
Mary made a growling sound as a lioness, low in the back of her throat, coming up at him, playfully nipping his chest with her sharp white teeth, raking her nails gently over a shoulder. "A lioness that seeks to venture to the land of Morpheus anon, her gryphon has kept her awake over long with his love play." Mary said, referring to the Nicholls' family heraldic device.   
"So I am your gryphon? Not a gryphon?" He asked, grinning down at her incredibly pleased that she has staked some ownership upon him.   
"Your Lord Father and Lady Mother had four eaglets in their nest, I must distinguish which one is mine for it is not Anthony, Henry or Andrew."   
"Nor will it ever be." Tom stated.   
"Though Anthony is so witty, Henry so intelligent and Andrew so chivalrous."Mary observed.   
"What of your eaglet?" Tom growled, curious to learn what she thought of him in comparison to his younger brothers.   
"He has all the best qualities of his three brothers and more. That is why he is mine."   
"Only the best for Christendom's Precious Pearl?" Tom asked, smiling down at her.   
"Of course! Would you believe it otherwise?" Mary giggled.   
Tom barked with laughter. "No."   
"Shhhhh..." She admonished him pressing her fingertips against his lips, which Tom kissed, each in turn, drawing the tip of one into his mouth, swirling the point of his tongue about it. "You will awaken the house! Hush now! It is time for bed. Help me to retrieve my nightgown and slip it on."   
"I prefer looking at you as God fashioned you. Nearly perfect in form."   
"You know that we dare not incite untoward chatter. If I am found a bed naked who will keep me warm within the bedclothes? But you dare not chance a scandal by spending the night. You may stay but only if you promise to be gone before I awaken."   
"I promise." He said, helping her retrieve her nightgown, watching her intently while she slipped it on buttoning several of the pearl buttons, the pair crawling beneath the covers, Tom spooning her.   
"No wickedness, Thomas." Mary warned.   
"Do I at least warrant a kiss Good night?" He asked.   
"Do you deem that wise? When you kiss me it has a way of getting the pair of us into trouble."   
"The most delicious manner of trouble, Mary, it will be just one kiss."   
"One kiss that will lead to other kisses and other more intimate caresses and..."Mary said, turning about in his arms to face him.   
"I was of the understanding that Your Grace finds the other more intimate caresses and... quite to your liking." He teased her, looking down into her face, his eyes capturing hers.   
Mary pursed her lips, making a face. "One kiss and tha...." She declared, pressing her palm against his chest for emphasis, squeaking in alarm when he pulled her roughly against him, his hand on the small of her back, his palm traveling down to grip her arse, kissing her fiercely. _____________________________________________________________________________________  
The sound of approaching hoofbeats reached the men atop the narrow bridge, and they turned to look up the road. In the broad field of ripened hay behind the bridge stood a muster of hundreds of Christian pilgrims, shoulder to shoulder, holding their banners and crosses aloft. The sight they created in the sunlight was impressive in its strength and holy defenses. Surely, Lord Darcy thought, the king's men would see this and know the truth, the devotion, and the Power of God behind the uprising.   
Darcy, Robert Aske, John Constable, and Captain Sir Ralph Ellerker caught first sight of glittering armour through the autumn bright trees. Darcy placed his arthritic hands on the bridge railing and offered a quick and silent prayer.   
Guide us with Your almighty hand, our God.   
The king's men appeared on the road's straightway and trotted their horses to the foot of the bridge, where they reined them in and then sat studying the vast army in the field. Charles Brandon and Franco Hapsburg, heads of the king's soldiers, dismounted and strolled onto the bridge.   
"Alas, you unhappy men," aid Brandon, his face set and as cold and hard as his armor. "What fancy, what folly has led and seduced you to make this most shameful rebellion against our most noble and righteous king and sovereign.   
Darcy and Aske exchanged quick glances noting the man beside Suffolk. The Princess Mary's new husband, The Duke of Bedford and Cambridge.   
Brandon scowled. "Are you not ashamed? How can you do this, not only giving offense to our natural sovereign lord but also giving you occasion to fight with us that have love you more than any other part of the realm, and have always taken you for best friends?"   
"Your Grace," said Aske. "We mean no offense to the king. But we have a petition which we desire humbly to submit to him, for the restoration of many things that have gone amiss in this realm."   
Constable took a step forward, his eyes bright with the challenge. "We demand the restoration of our abbeys and our ancient liberties!"   
Ellerker nodded. "And for a new Parliament to be summoned to address all the people's sincere grievances."   
Brandon and Hapsburg shook their heads. Then Brandon looked at the faces of the adversaries, each in turn. "We can decide nothing here." He stated referring to himself and Hapsburg. "But I propose a truce, during which time two of our captains can take your petition and present it to His Majesty. The truce will be maintained until they return. My Lord Darcy, may we talk a moment?"   
Constable gave Darcy a sharp look of warning, but Aske nodded his agreement. Brandon and Hapsburg led Darcy to the far side of bridge, away from the others. Darcy could feel hundreds of pairs of eyes watching them from the field.   
"Well, Your Graces?" Asked Darcy.   
"My Lord Darcy, " Franco said in his lightly accented English. ""You more than anyone here have cause to be grateful to the kind for his bounty, so I have been told, for the trust he reposes in you and would like to repose in you still. And yet here we find you consorting with rebels and traitors."   
Darcy held up his hand. It hurt mightily, but he didn't yet the pain show in his face. "Your Grace, I would rather have my head struck from my body than ever defile my coat of arms. For it will never be said that Old Tom had one traitor's tooth in his head. For my part I have been and always will be true to the king our sovereign lord, as I was to his father before him, and I defy him that says the contrary. For I have always said one God, one faith, one king."   
"If you are as true and loyal as you say, then you can prove it by giving up your captain, Mr. Aske into our hands." Brandon interjected.   
Darcy's heart clenched in anger and dismay. He glared at Brandon and Franco Hapsburg, who had so quickly become a king's man though married to Henry's oldest child who, Darcy knew was sympathetic to their cause. "Sirs, that I cannot and will not do. For a man who promises to be true to someone then deserts him may truly be called a traitor! For what is a man but his promise?"


	15. Chapter XV

"And I'd give up forever to touch you,   
Cause I know that you feel me somehow.  
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be,   
And I don't want to go home right now." - portion of the lyrics to Iris by the Go Go Dolls 

 

He left her at dawn as he had promised her, just as she awakened, planting a tender kiss upon her forehead before he left her.   
"Did you pass a pleasant night, Your Grace?" Susan asked, pulling aside the bed curtains to find her mistress sleepy eyed and nested within the bed clothes, dressed in her night rail, the scent of last evening's intimacies hanging in the air about the bed.   
Mary smiled in response, stretching her arms up over her head. "Mmmmmmm..." She said, opening her eyes looking past Susan to see her bath and basket of soaps and perfumed oils being brought in. "I spent a portion of it in Paradise." She murmured.   
"They say that the Earl of Durham's bed was not slept in last evening though he was found in it this morning." Susan stated looking pointedly at her mistress, helping Mary out of the bed, the faint scent of the Egyptian musk she knew His Lordship wore clinging faintly to her mistress.   
"Nothing untoward happened, Susan. His Lordship is quite clever to be certain there will be no scandal. My reputation is safe with him. "Mary reassured Susan helping her maid undress her.   
"Your reputation and honor may be but what of your person, Your Grace?" Susan bantered back, taking the robe that one of the other of Mary's women handed her, holding it as Mary put her hands into the sleeves, Susan moving it up over her shoulders then tied the sash loosely about Mary's waist.   
"My person is also secure and safe within His Lordship's care!" Mary said, both women giggling, Susan helping Mary to the tub, which was situated near the fire place and filled with hot water.   
Undoing the sash of her robe, Mary shrugged it off her shoulders, letting it fall about her, Susan catching it before it hit the floor, stepping into the tub, enjoying the feel of the warm water against her legs as she eased down into the tub, Susan, Drusilla and Lavinia coming forward to help their mistress.   
Mary closed her eyes, enjoying the sweep of the natural sea sponge as it glided over her arms, as Lavinia washed her, Drusilla and Susan washing Mary's red-gold hair, the former harem concubine's fingertips massaging into Mary's scalp the soap creating a large lather of white bubbles about her head, Drusilla having a care not to allow them to fall into Mary's eyes.   
"Close your eyes now, Your Grace, it is time to rinse." Drusilla instructed Mary who did as she was bidden, as a pitcher of hot water was brought and poured over her head.   
Mary laughed feeling the water drip down her face, sputtering wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, continuing to giggle as another pitcher of water was poured over her head. "I must look a fright!" She said, the water cascading down her front in little rivulets over her chest, breasts and down her belly, giggling once again.   
"Nay! Your Grace!" Lavinia told Mary, motioning for one of the other women to bring forward a large Turkish cotton towel for drying her hair which she did as Mary's hair was completely rinsed, then dried with the towel, Lavinia running her fingers through the thick mass to remove the sleep tangles, pinning it on top of her mistress's head, letting some of the tendrils to escape and fall about her face. 

 

Through the door that separated their bed chambers, Thomas could hear Mary's distinctive laughter and giggling, the sounds of water splashing coming from the room drawing him toward it like a magnet. He knew that he shouldn't but some inexplicable force drew him to her voice. She was as a siren calling to a sailor and he was unable to resist her call, stepping through the doorway quietly so as not to be heard. He stood there for several moments watching her transfixed as she trailed the natural sea sponge within her hand over her breasts down her belly, the rivulets of water upon her skin shining like tiny diamonds in the early morning light.   
"Begging Your Grace's Pardon, Madame, but Baroness Brook sent word that Mass will be held in the chapel within the hour. The baggage with the exception of Your Grace's personal effects is all prepared for our journey, as well." He stated coming into the room, his eyes hungrily sweeping over Mary's nude form, smoldering with desire, before Drusilla had a chance to block the handsome earl's view of her mistress with Drusilla's body, covering Mary with a towel as she rose from the tub as the other ladies began fluttering about like hens, giggling and sighing behind their hands in reaction to the incredibly good looking fox now in their midst.   
"This could not wait for a more convenient time, My Lord?" Mary asked, being certain that her potential lover got a tantalizing view of one of her long shapely legs as she was helped out of the tub and onto the mat beside it, then allowing him to feast his eyes on the long line of her back and that near to perfectly rounded bum that he so appreciated gazing at, turning back about as Susan and Lavinina helped her into her robe where he was afforded the opportunity to allow his eyes to linger on her breasts for a moment before her robe closed over them.   
"No, Your Grace. It could not wait for a more convenient time. It was imperative that I convey the messages to Your Grace forthwith!" As it was imperative that I catch you naked in the bath, My Darling Mary! I cannot seem to stay away from you. He thought.   
He was smitten! Completely and totally smitten! Susan noted watching Lord Durham lick his lips, his blue gray eyes darkening to a stormy blue with desire unable to tear them away from Mary Tudor. Studying the man at a closer range then she had been able to in the past, Susan could see why her young mistress was pondering the possibility of taking him into to her bed. He was incredibly fair to look upon. Thin as a greyhound, a wee bit too thin for Susan's taste. All of him elegant and well made, long, lean and incredibly tall with legs that appeared they stretched on for miles, broad shoulders, and narrow hips, arms and those legs again, muscular in all the proper places that would make a lady swoon. Then there was his face: a high forehead, deep set blue gray eyes that Susan had so recently noted, long elegant nose, chiseled cheekbones, thin lips and a square jaw, his head topped off with a crop of short, elegantly cut curly ginger colored hair that he managed to keep tame. Oh! He was a handsome one! Sure of himself and his place in the world. It only added to his devastating charm. No wonder Mary was becoming infatuated with the man!   
"Thank you, My Lord." Mary said walking toward him, stretching out her hand to be kissed as the earl bowed before her, inclining his head with reverence, bowing low before her. Was that the tip of his tongue Susan saw slip from between his lips as they pressed against her hand? And a flush stealing up Her Grace's chest and over her face as she tried to hide her trembling, moistening her lips, trying to conceal her intense physical attraction and reaction to this man from her ladies.   
Especially when he rose, taking a step closer to her, his body brushing against hers, feeling her trembling with desire. He winked at her, smiling, mischievously.   
"God Help me but I want you." She whispered in one of his ears, standing up on her tip toes, her breath hot against it.   
Tom turned his head, their eyes meeting, blue gray staring into sapphire blue. "Then you shall have me if that is your wish."   
"Please give me one more kiss before you go."   
"Your women are watching." He warned.   
"Do you care?" She shot back.   
"He grinned, laughing lightly. "No, certainly not! You are flirting with me!"   
"Of course, what woman could resist?" She asked him.   
He laughed out loud. "Not many. But I desire you only." He stated.   
"How much?" She asked.   
"I will show you tonight. In your bed at Hunsdon" He replied giving her that kiss she craved before turning about, bowing once more, then leaving through the open door, catching her eye and winking once more before closing it behind him.   
"He is bold, that one!" Susan said to Mary as she helped her mistress out of her robe, standing her near the warmth of the fire as a fragrant cream of roses was massaged into her skin, then powdered with jasmine scented powder, her undergarments being brought forward. Her stockings came first, knitted green silk with Tudor roses, lions and dragons clocked up the sides to about mid calf, her garters were of white silk ribbons with rosettes of Tudor Roses their centers sewn with pearls and gold beads.   
"Aye he is. Just as bold as..." Mary said wistfully her voice trailing off.   
"Viscount Beauchamp?" Susan supplied. "That man still troubling you, Madame? That Dashing Fox will soon take his place in your affections. You have begun to burn bright enough for him and God knows be is completely besotted with Your Grace." Susan mused as she continued to help Mary dress. "What is it about Her Majesty's elder brother that captivated you so? Madame, he broke your heart. If it weren't for your luscious earl and his delicious wickedness Your Grace would be in a sorry state. You deserve to be happy whilst your new husband is up north quelling rebellion with His Grace of Suffolk and Aramis Lucco, not miserable with a foul tempered and bad mannered viscount."   
"He has branded me, Susan. That first time he kissed me. He claimed my soul and stole my heart then he crushed the same heart he claimed he treasured. I may always love and care for him of a fashion. He was the first to awaken me to the love and passion that can be found between a man and a woman. It saddens me that he tossed it all away for his stubborn pride." Mary explained to her old and trusted friend referring to what had lead to their estrangement.   
"His Lordship?" Susan queried.   
"Is luscious and deliciously wicked, he is also carrying on His Majesty the King's command, protecting me. God, I want him!" Mary confessed.   
"What will happen when a certain viscount comes begging upon his knees for forgiveness, groveling and repentant seeing the error of his ways? For he will seek you out, the court is rife with the rumors about how miserable he is, as you well know and have heard. Your luscious and deliciously wicked fox will not go quietly. Though the Wiltshire Wolf is larger and certainly has a more powerful bite. The fox is wily and cunning he may outmaneuver the fierce beast. "Susan warned. She had never known Mary to be so fickle. But then again, her mistress had never hand two incredibly handsome and intelligent courtiers vying for her affections before (not to mention a dashing husband). Viscount Beauchamp would have to work quite hard to win Her Grace back.   
"I will think about it when the time comes. For now, I will enjoy myself." Mary told Susan.   
"As you wish, Your Grace." Susan replied.   
__________________________________________________________________________________________________  
The priest on the estate of Baron and Baroness Brook was old and spry with a shock of white hair and merry blue eyes that had not faded with age. He was a friendly, amiable man full of stories of the wars of Succession from the last century and Mary's grandparents, Henry VII and Elizabeth of York, having held Mass for them several times. It did not shock him to hear her Confession and the details of Mary's previous evening's sins. Old Father Owen just clucked his tongue his eyes widening slightly in shock, giving her Absolution knowing that with such a handsome nobleman as the Earl of Durham about she was bound to sin again especially if she was anything like her aunts, the Queen of Scots and the Queen of France, Margaret and Mary, whose Confessions Father Owen had also heard. Who could blame her, a lovely young lady as she was, in the flush of her youth, with a dashing man in his prime? The Near Occasion to Sin could not be avoided. Far from it, apparently, from what Father Owen could ascertain upon hearing the earl's own Confession and observing how the man gazed at Henry Tudor's eldest child when it appeared that no one was looking. Their secret would remain with him. To Father Owen the Seal of the Confessional was binding and he owed his allegiance only to God. He could not be bribed.   
During Mass that morning, Thomas Nicholls was having a bit of an effort keeping his hands off of her, Father Owen noted from what he could see from his vantage point upon the altar as he and Father Cuthbert co-presided. They sat side by side next to Baroness and Baron Brook, Mary trying desperately to concentrate upon what was happening in front of her but to no avail. Not with the earl sitting beside her, snatching glances at her out of the corner of his eyes, winking, his lips quirking into a smile as he quietly flirted with her, the hand and arm nearest to her brushing up against her thigh, hip, waist and back ever so discreetly as though not to be commented upon by those sitting behind them. He would allow no gossip or innuendo to taint her Good Name and reputation. That being said, he would have his fun, albeit, beneath the nose of their hosts and entourages knowing how as to not incite unwanted talk but make her burn with desire for him. Unable to hide the gentle blush staining her pale cheeks as he whispered in her ear.   
"Tonight!" His hot breath fanning against her skin, his voice aching with longing. "Let me come to your bed. You are a fire in my blood, a burning passion I must quench."   
Mary felt her cheeks burn at his words, fire swirling about in her belly, attempting to focus her attention upon Father Owen, Tom assisting her as they knelt for the Consecration.   
"Shall you kneel before me?" He whispered irreverently, unable to help himself.   
Slapping his forearm, Mary tilted her head up to look at him. "Stop this minute! We will have none of that, My Lord!" She hissed quietly.   
"Would you object if I knelt before you, Darling?"He asked smirking. "Your Grace begs to be worshipped and adored, every inch of your precious person." He added meaningfully.   
"Every inch?" She asked, attempting to focus her attention upon Father Owen as the priest began the Eucharistic Prayer. Why was Tom so intent on taunting her with the prospect of what afforded her when she decided to finally allow him to take her completely?   
He nodded, grinning at her, showing his dimples before turning his attention to the priest upon the altar.   
________________________________________________________________________________________________  
They made their farewells after breakfast, thanking the baron and baroness for their hospitality. Lady Brook was kind enough to pack them a large basket of food including meat pasties, apple tartlets, hard English cheddar cheese, apples and pears to eat along the way.   
"I will be certain to send word to His Majesty of your excellent hospitality." Tom was telling Lord Brook outside in the courtyard, Mary speaking to the women, her eye catching a familiar pennant and a clutch of about a half a dozen riders coming up the driveway.   
Tom excused himself from Lord Brook as the riders came closer, recognizing the pennant of his House and one of the riders. "Andrew! I thought that you were still at sea. Thank Saint Peter and Saint Andrew that you are home safely and on dry land. When did your ship make port in the London Pool? "Tom asked, as grooms from Lord Brook's household went to greet the riders, one holding the bridle of Andrew's horse as he dismounted, the pair of brothers embracing and clapping one another upon the back in greeting.   
"Several days ago. I attended upon Mr. Cromwell at court. He informed me that His Majesty had ordered ye to escort the prince... Her Grace the Duchess of Bedford, Cambridge and Cadiz to her manor at Hunsdon gave me leave to meet up with ye. We sought lodging nearby in the inn down the road having arrived late yester eve to the village. Where is our Dear Cousin?" Andrew asked looking about for Mary. "Ah, as if I did not know, I would warrant that she is over there speaking with that group of women, the one in the dark green riding habit, the beautiful red-head that you have not let out of yer sights since I rode up Lord Brook's drive." Andrew said with a laugh, well aware of Tom's appreciation of and way with women.   
"I am performing my duties as ordered by His Majesty." Tom informed his younger brother.   
"So ye say, Tom." Andrew said with a grin, chuckling and shaking his head. "She has grown into quite a beauty. Have a care to protect yerself my brother, lest ye find yerself coming down with an ague if ye have not contracted one."   
"An ague? What sort?" Tom asked. 

Andrew lifted a brown, his lips pursing. He was well aware of the high esteem his elder brother had always held for their cousin, Mary. 

"I love Her Grace as her pledged champion and kinsman." Tom said defensively and rather convincingly to those about him save Andrew who suspected that there was more that filial affection involved in his brother's reverence to their kinswoman. 

"Yer words and the way that they are spoken may convince others but we are blood, Tom. I know ye just as well as ye know yerself. I know that wistful and dreamy look that ye get in yer eyes when ye're smitten. I pray Her Grace was not carved from the same block of ice as was yer Lady Wife, Joan Talbot," Andrew whispered so only Tom could hear. 

"She is a Tudor, Andrew, from the long line of King Arthur himself and Cadwallader, I do not believe that ice is capable of flowing through those veins." 

"Have a care that ye do not get scorched by the fire then. Ye know as well as I that our Tudor cousins are hot-blooded." Andrew warned. "Have a care for that handsome head of yours as well, ye don't want it ending up upon a spike on London Bridge." 

"Tis the Woodville blood we share." Tom said. "My intensions toward Her Grace are honorable, nothing more." 

"The Woodvilles back in our grandmother's were known for their learning, their piety and devotion to Holy Mother Church. So it will burn flame-hot between ye then,this flirtation? Better a wee innocent dalliance than the cold bed of that bitch of a wife ye are married to." Andrew said. 

"The Woodville's were also known to be fair of face and form." Tom added with a wink.

"Do you not give Her Majesty the late Queen, God Rest her good Soul, any credit?" Andrew asked. 

"Her Grace learnt her manners and how to conduct herself with discretion and decorum from Queen Catherine amongst many other virtues and talents." Tom told his brother. "Her Late Majesty was a flame haired beauty in her youth."   
"So Her Grace inherited her looks from both her paternal and maternal sides? God help us! She will breed up handsome sons and fair daughters for England." Andrew said. 

"The Trastamaras are known to possess fire in their blood as well." Tom replied.

"Andrew! Andrew! It does me so good to see you!" Mary cried, recognizing Tom's younger brother, she rushed over. 

"Your Grace!" Andrew exclaimed, inclining his head in reverence, going to take her hand to place a kiss upon it, when he had finished with the court protocol,

Mary embraced him, warmly, planting a kiss upon his cheek. "How was your voyage? I look so forward to hearing the tales of the fantastical things you have seen! Lady Brook is more than happy to extend her hospitality for a few days. May I may make known to you her eldest daughter, Lady Eleanor Ward?" Mary added, drawing forward her rival. "Lady Eleanor, my cousin, Lord Andrew Nicholls, he has just returned from a voyage to the New World his purse filled with the Emperor's gold." 

"Lady Eleanor, it is my pleasure to make yer acquaintance." Lord Andrew said in his most cultured voice, taking her hand, planting a kiss upon it, making her flush with pleasure. She could not resist a giggle at his gallantry.   
"Your Lordship is too kind." Eleanor said, her brown eyes meeting Andrew's green ones, her flush deepening, her lips lifting into a flirtatious smile all thoughts of Andrew's elder brother, Thomas scattered to the four winds. What would she want with a married earl when his rather wealthy bachelor brother had come along? Here was a man that she could enjoy a dalliance with and certainly snag as a husband. He was also rather good looking in that not so polished way with a red-head's freckles and a friendly easy smile. "I pray that Your Lordship would accept Lord Brook's extension of hospitality and spend a few days with us as Her Grace and the earl have been invited to do. Her Grace's luggage is being unloaded as we speak. It would be our pleasure to have you all reacquaint yourselves under Lord Brook's roof after your long voyage at sea, Lord Andrew. Do come inside for refreshment. Though I trust that you have broken your fast?"   
"Yes." Andrew said, looking to Mary.   
"Go on then, Andrew! Do not stay outside on my account. Lord Durham will keep me company. We will chat about your voyages at another time. Do have Lady Eleanor show you the lovely gallery after you have partaken of refreshment. Lord Brook has some lovely antiquities found in Rome." Mary told her cousin, shooing him off with Lady Eleanor.   
"That was well played, Your Grace, I was totally unaware that Your Grace possessed such a talent." Tom said, relieved, watching his youngest brother's and Lady Eleanor's retreating backs, Andrew offering the lady his arm which she took referring to her matchmaking.   
"For matchmaking? There are many talents and skills that I possess that you are unaware of, My Lord. If Your Lordship behaves many of them may be revealed to Your Lordship, several of them in private." Mary told him, gazing up at him threw lowered lashes, her lips curling up into a flirtatious smile. "But only if Your Lordship deports himself in a gallant and chivalrous manner."   
"I will strive to be the perfect courtier." Tom said, smiling back at her. "What manner of talents is Your Grace of a mind to show me?"   
"Patience, My Lord, all to be revealed in time." Mary replied. "Upon my terms, when I wish it, your perseverance will be duly rewarded. Since we are to be Lord and Lady Brook's guests for several more days how shall we fill them. I have not had my morning ride and desire a gallop. Your Lordship will accompany me."   
"With pleasure. I will see to our mounts and will inform Lord Brook and Your Grace's guard."   
"A quartet to accompany us if they travel at a discreet distance." Mary said.   
"One must have a care f or thieves and vagabonds on the road from the village." Tom told her.   
"We shall ride in Lord Brook's fields and parks." Mary stated.   
"Word has traveled to the village that Your Grace is lodged nearby. The people will find Madame soon enough, they will come to greet you." Tom stated.   
"Let them come. I will be happy to receive them so it please Almighty God."   
"The people bear Your Grace great affection." Tom told her. "As well they should to such a pious, gracious and well-favored lady. If Your Grace will allow me leave to tend to the procurement of our mounts and inform Lord Brook."   
"Granted. Do not be overlong. I desire to ride." She said, looking about to be certain that no one was watching them, stepping close to him, running the tip of an index finger along his chest. "Soon I may be riding a Durham stallion that pleases me."   
"Ride you shall if it please Your Grace." Tom said snatching her hand, bringing it up to his mouth, planting a kiss upon it.   
"If I desire to mount him then shall I ride him!" Mary said, kissing the top of the hand that held hers, releasing it quickly.   
"Your Grace gives me hope." He said leaving her, returning a few minutes later with her body guards and a pair of mounts, Tom riding one and leading hers dressed in the trappings of her position so she would be easily identifiable. Tom dismounted, his horse staying as he went to help her.  
"The grooms saddled a gelding." Tom remarked, Mary placing a booted foot in his laced fingers, placing her hands on either side of his broad shoulders bouncing several times vaulting into the sidesaddle.   
"The guards are to ride at a discreet distance?" Mary asked again, she wanted reassurance. She did not want a bunch of guards impeding her ride and her snatched moments alone with this man.   
"Yes, Your Grace, I thought that had been established." Tom replied, mounting his own horse. The pair setting off at a walk, slipping into the other gaits effortlessly, a trot then a canter and then to a full gallop encouraging their horses, who, given permission, tore across the field, their hooves thundering against the grass.   
"Race you!" Mary cried with girlish enthusiasm. "To the oak tree at the top of the hill there."   
"For a wager." Tom said, knowing how Mary enjoyed gambling.   
"What may that be?" She asked.   
"The winner may claim a jewel from the loser, any precious they own or possess." Tom posed, looking pointedly at her.   
Mary flushed at his double entendre, his meaning all too clear. "Any precious jewel?" She asked.   
"Yes, say a pearl perhaps?" Tom inferred.   
"Mary cheeks burned even redder. "Court me, seduce me with your words, give me presents, make me believe that I am the most important women in Christendom." She challenged him.   
"And if I do? Will you submit to me, heart, mind, body and soul?"   
"I will give it careful consideration." She replied. He was so temping, that charming smile and those devastating blue-gray eyes tugging at her heart.   
"You cannot deny we share an unnatural passion. Are you prepared to race?"   
"Yes." She replied, bringing her horse alongside his. "Go!"   
The pair of them raced their horses over the field, neck and neck for a good portion of the race, Tom urging his horse forward nudging it in the sides overtaking Mary's mount, reaching the tree a half length before her.   
"Won fairly! Claim your prize, Tom. What would you have of me?"   
"That precious hidden jewel lodged in your most intimate place." Tom said baldly.   
"Oh, Gracious!" She whispered on a moan, feeling the place between her legs throb with anticipation and desire, memories of what his mouth, tongue and fingers could do to her and how it made her feel flashed in her mind. "When?"   
"Let me come to your bed tonight." His voice was low and husky with longing.   
She closed her eyes for a brief moment; it took one second to make up her mind and weigh all the possible consequences coming to the conclusion it was worth the risk! "Yes!" She breathed. She could not deny him. She had his promise that he would be discreet, that no one would ever know. His reassurance shredded some of her resolve, causing her to become a wee bit reckless like her paternal aunts, the Queen of Scots and France before her. They had both risked much for love.   
"You will not regret it, I promise. There are more things that I am going to do to you, things that will take your breath away, make you scream in ecstasy and leave you aching for more." He promised drawing his horse alongside hers. Their eyes meeting, Mary's lips parted her mouth suddenly dry as dust, butterflies fluttering in her stomach as she began to tremble, white hot desire washing over her. She and the earl were of a similar mind both being devout adherents of the Holy Mother Church but Tom was first and foremost pragmatic and practical knowing that his future and fortune was based on the continued favor the king who was unusually fond appointing Tom a Gentleman of His Majesty's Privy Chamber when he was a young man of twenty-one, he was also a member of the Privy Council, part of the Northern Faction of Nobles along with the Earls of Northumberland and Shrewsbury and Westmorland and a firm friend of the king's many other kinsmen including the Duke of Suffolk. Tom had served as a very young page to the King's Sister, Mary, the duke's wife when she had been queen of France. He had the right credentials and patronage to be intimately involved with Mary and was a perfect escort due to the blood the pair shared.   
Mary shook her thoughts off, moistening her lips with her tongue. "I look forward to the experiences in your expert hands." She said. __________________________________________________________________________________________________  
"Hold the bow, like this, lock the arrow against the bowstring, the feathers up, and use your fingers to pull the bowstring back to your ear, Your Grace." Tom instructed Mary, a hand gripping the riser of the bow, lacing his fingers through hers, the contact of his palm next to the top of her hand setting her heart to racing, the blood rushing in her ears especially when he withdrew it, placing it against the small of her back, his fingers going about her waist near one of her softly rounded hips covered by layers of petticoats, underskirt and kirtle, gently skimming down over her firm rounded buttocks, his chest brushing her back. "Aim, the arrow to the center of the target then let fly, see if it pierces the target as you have pierce my heart, Darling." Tom whispered, his breath hot in her ear, rustling the tendrils of hair about it.   
"Tom!" Mary admonished, turning her head over a shoulder to look at him. "You will distract me with your words, I will not be able to aim properly, if the arrow flies it may hit what is not intended." She complained pulling the bowstring further, letting the arrow fly, it hit just a fraction above the bull's eye, setting off applause from the on-lookers including Lord Andrew, Lady Eleanor and Lord and Lady Brook.   
"Well done, Your Grace." Lord Brook called. "Your Grace is quite skilled with a bow, what other talents does Madame possess?"   
"Her Grace may not wish it to be widely known, but she can swim like a fish." Andrew supplied.   
Tom turned to Mary. "That is correct! I remember! The Late Queen, Catherine, your Lady Mother taught you. She taught me when I was a lad when my mother served in her household. She taught Anthony, Henry and Andrew as well as several other children of her trusted friends and courtiers. She learnt from one of the old Moors that served your grandmother, Isabella of Castile."   
"Yes, it is true. Are you going to shoot your arrow?"   
"Not before we make arrangements to go swimming together. I am curious to see if what my brother says is true, if Your Grace can truly swim as a fish, do you turn into a mermaid in the water? It has been years since we have spent time along the water together." Tom said.   
Mary nodded. "Yes. There is a stream on the estate. There are several warm days left before the cold will settle in. On one of those warm days I promise to go swimming with you. Now shoot your arrow, My Lord."   
"Your Grace." Tom inclined his head in reverence, locking his arrow, drawing back the bowstring, letting it fly, hitting a few inches below Mary's, close to the center of the target.   
Mary arched a brow over an eye, biting her lower lip with small white teeth as she studied the target with great concentration, then locking her arrow, "My turn!" She exclaimed, letting the arrow fly, hitting the center of the bull's eye. "Ha!" She crowed triumphantly, "My turn to claim a forfeit, My Lord Durham."   
"Whatever Your Grace desires." Tom said, smiling, he winked, his eyes crinkling at the corners.   
"What do I desire of you... Hmmmm..." She pondered, tapping her lower lip with the tip of a long slender index finger. "Become my slave for three days of my choosing. Wait upon me hand and foot, fulfill my every want, need and desire."   
Tom laughed. "Only three days? I would be your slave forever if you would but let me. But I will endeavor to do all and whatever Your Grace requires of me, in public and in private. I will be yours to command, in all things."   
"Forever?" She asked, delicious thrills coursing down her spine. "In private and it public?"   
"Yes, if Your Grace wishes it." Tom reassured her with a rakish smile. "Oh what I will do to you..." He added so only she could hear, his voice low and thick with passion and desire.   
"Similar to last evening?" She whispered back.   
"Even better, Darling!"   
He knees felt weak, as though they would turn to water. She bit her lower lip. "Is it possible?"   
"Your Grace has no idea." He said grinning rakishly.   
"Wicked man!" She said, looking up at him through lowered lashes, locking another arrow, letting it fly, hitting close to the others.   
"Wicked in the nicest possible way and only with Your Grace. Though Your Grace has decided to lead me a merry chase."   
"I am not so easily won no matter how devastatingly charming and handsome Your Lordship appears to be."   
"Eheheheheheh. So the truth is told? Your Grace finds me charming and handsome dare I hope irresistible as well? He whispered within her ear, his breath gently ruffling the soft tendrils of hair about it.   
"That remains to be seen, My Lord, upon how Your Lordship pleases me." She told him recklessly, turning her head, sapphire blue eyes locking with blue gray.   
"Rest assured, I will not disappoint." He vowed, his lips quirking into a smile.


	16. Chapter XVI

Sources consulted/inspiration: Downton Abbey Seasons I-III: Relationship between Mary and Matthew Crawley, The Thistle and The Rose by Hester W. Chapman, Ordeal by Ambition by William Seymour, The Last Tudor King by Hester W. Chapman.   
And so it is  
Just like you said it would be  
Life goes easy on me  
Most of the time  
And so it is  
The shorter story  
No love, no glory  
No hero in her sky

I can't take my eyes off of you  
I can't take my eyes off of you  
I can't take my eyes off of you  
I can't take my eyes off of you  
I can't take my eyes off of you  
I can't take my eyes...

And so it is  
Just like you said it should be  
We'll both forget the breeze  
Most of the time  
And so it is  
The colder water  
The blower's daughter  
The pupil in denial

I can't take my eyes off of you  
I can't take my eyes off of you  
I can't take my eyes off of you  
I can't take my eyes off of you  
I can't take my eyes off of you  
I can't take my eyes...

Did I say that I Loathe you?  
Did I say that I want to  
Leave it all behind?

I can't take my mind off of you  
I can't take my mind off of you...  
I can't take my mind off of you  
I can't take my mind off of you  
I can't take my mind off of you  
I can't take my mind...  
My mind...my mind... -   
"The Blower's Daughter" By Damien Rice 

"How fairs Her Grace, Your Lady Wife?" Charles Brandon asked Franco, taking a sip from his goblet, savoring the spiced warm wine, cradling it in his hand, allowing the heat to warm it, shifting in his chair that was situated near one of the braziers in the tent the commanders shared. He watched as the younger man scanned the contents of the letter that he was holding in long elegant fingers, his fine black eyes traveling back and forth across the page intently.   
"Her Grace is fairing quite well under the protection the Earl of Durham." Franco replied.   
Charles Brandon's eyes widened slightly at the mention of Thomas Nicholls's name. "Your Grace could not ask for a more loyal or better man to be your bride's escort back to your manor of Hunsdon. Her Grace will be quite safe in Lord Duham's most capable hands. Nothing untoward will happen to her. I can vouch for His Lordship on my honor."   
"Thank you, Your Grace." Franco replied looking up from Mary's missive. "I am rather relieved that His Majesty was able to spare a gentleman so trusted and respected to accompany her. I know that the king is rather fond of Lord Durham and depends upon his wise council and opinions in regards to many matters."   
Charles nodded. "What else does Her Grace write about?"   
Franco chuckled, a smile breaking over his handsome features. "Maria has got up to some matchmaking. Apparently, Lord Brook, one of their hosts, has a widowed daughter with several small children. The lady is in market for a husband. Maria has set about to match the lady, Eleanor Ward, is her name, with Lord Durham's younger brother, Andrew. Are you familiar with him, Carlos?" Franco asked using the Spanish form of the duke's given name.   
"Yes, is that the one that was recently on a trading and exploratory voyage under English and Imperial protection?" Charles asked.   
"Si! It appears that Lord Andrew has amassed quite a fortune in the sea trade traveling about the world for my half brother, the Emperor, which is an honorable profession!" Franco said.   
"Which Your Grace approves of?" Charles supplied with a grin, teasing Franco, knowing full well that was the way the half-Moorish nobleman had amassed his own fortune, endeavors that were key to the prosperity of England.   
"Absolutely!" Franco retorted both men sharing in companionable laughter, Franco returning the grin, going back to the letter. "They will be spending another several days with the Brooks, Maria keen to ensure that the additional time spent will ensure that a tendre develops between Lady Ward and Lord Nicholls. She does mention that she will send word when she arrives safely at Hunsdon House."   
"Will Your Grace wait until you receive it to send along the gifts?" Charles Brandon asked.   
"Hmmm... By the time that word reaches me here at Doncaster, depending upon the state of the roads, they could have arrived. I will send the gifts along tonight under heavy guard. It would not be prudent for the rebels to abscond with them." Franco replied.   
"Her Grace will appreciate Your Grace's generosity." George Talbot, the Earl of Shrewsbury remarked hearing Franco's words upon entering the tent, removing his gloves, placing them in his belt, warming his hands at one of the braziers that were set about for warmth. "Especially the live salmon. Sending them in a barrel full of river water is quite clever. They will arrive safely. What jewels has Your Grace selected for her? Your attention to details astounds me. Quelling rebellion yet Your Grace has the time to think of what would please his bride, to send her gifts. Most husbands are not so thoughtful. I commend Your Grace."   
"Not all men are married to Mary Tudor." Franco replied with a smile. "The jewels that I selected were opals from the New World, some came in a packet that the Lord Privy Seal sent me. They were a portion of the cargo that recently arrived from a voyage. I found a goldsmith in York that set them in gold with emeralds as enhancements. I had an necklace, earbobs and a brooch made. Mary does not have any opals in her collection."   
"Surprising seeing as how generous Your Grace was upon your marriage." Suffolk said.   
"Mi esposa needs to be adorned according to her station. Though the jewels only serve to enhance her beauty." Franco stated. "A lady such as she cannot have too many jewels. It pleases me to send her that which would please her."   
"Pray to Almighty God that Your Grace enjoys a pleasant and concordant wedlock." Thomas Howard said entering the tent, accompanied by striking young man in his latter twenties, both men were dressed in armor that was splattered with mud, it even was dotted upon their faces with a bit caked in their hair.   
Franco blinked, staring at the young man who looked vaguely familiar but he could not seem to place a name to the gentleman's face.   
"Your Grace, may I present Lord Anthony Nicholls?" Norfolk asked bringing the man in question forward to Franco. Anthony Nicholls bowed in reverence to King Henry's son by law, who looked him from the top of his head to the tips of his sabatons, assessing him.   
"Welcome, My Lord" He said, indicating that Nicholls rise from his obeisance.   
"Where is the Earl of Durham?" Shrewsbury asked after his son-in-law looking about to see if Tom was behind his brother.   
"Escorting my wife, Her Grace the Duchess to her manor at Hunsdon upon His Majesty's orders, Lord Shrewsbury. Be content that His Majesty holds Lord Durham in such esteem as to afford him such an honor." Franco supplied.   
"What of my daughter, The Countess?" Shrewsbury asked.   
"My Lord, it would please Your Lordship to be made aware that Lord Henry, my brother is with Lady Durham and the children at Durham Castle under guard. They will be safe with him." Anthony replied.   
Shrewsbury nodded, pleased, whilst Norfolk clucked his tongue.   
"Better Durham escort Her Grace than Viscount Beauchamp." Norfolk remarked. "Though his Lordship has much to recommend him it appears that he has sorely offended Her Grace in some matter. It would not behoove Her Grace to be untowardly distressed especially when she may be carrying the Hope of England, Thanks to Almighty God."   
Suffolk nodded. "Amen! His Majesty will take every care with Her Grace to ensure that she is well cared for and not agitated in any way especially since she is newlywed. He dare not risk Her Grace's life or that of any apparent child she may have conceived. We all pray for a fruitful union between you both, Your Grace." He added turning to Franco.   
"Ah! She will breed up fine strong sons and beautiful daughters for England." Franco said.   
"The realm prays that there be more fine sons of this union than daughters!" Norfolk told the Franco. "Though His Majesty may take it as an affront that Your Grace is able to sire a healthy boy on the Princess Dowager's girl!"   
Franco scowled. He did not care for the Duke of Norfolk, finding him grasping and overly ambitious, his remark callous. "Your Grace of Norfolk, I doubt that His Majesty would care who the child's grandmother is just as long as he is born healthy and lives. Your Grace seems to forget that Her Grace my Beloved Lady Wife is once again her father's Pearl of Christendom! If Her Majesty the Queen's Grace and Maria both conceive and bare sons, England will be much better for it. His Majesty will have his heart's desire two fold. There will be no threat of Civil War with two healthy male heirs to come after him." Franco explained to the duke.   
Thomas Howard felt the sting of the Hapsburg's words. The damn man was so confident that Catherine of Aragon's brat would give him a son! Of course all men believed it but Norfolk was angered at the possibility that the Mary would give the king what he wanted where his niece, Anne Boleyn had failed. The profound influence that Norfolk desired with the king by having a Howard or someone with Howard blood sitting upon the English throne was lost. His ambitions would come to naught. Unless a union between one his grandchildren and any issue of this marriage could be arranged. Or he could scheme to dangle another Howard girl before the king? Being the premiere nobleman in England was not enough! "So you say, Your Grace." The duke said, inclining his head with reverence.   
"If it serves to appease Your Grace, ponder upon how fat Your Grace's purse will become and how your fortunes will increase from the gold and riches that Your Grace will receive from your investment in my enterprises to the New World. The primary reason for my marriage to Her Grace is to beget issue for the benefit and security of the realm but one must take to mind the other aspects of the treaty that will benefit all those involved including you, Norfolk." Franco said, logically, watching the older man's facial expression change. Thomas Howard had been appeased. "I brought much to England to buy that priceless jewel in Henry Tudor's crown!"   
"Though one would wonder who received the better bargain!" Aramis, who had been silently sitting in a corner of the tent watching, listening and stroking the fur of Franco's new Irish Wolfhound pup, remarked, sitting up, a smile splitting his face. "His Grace or England? For remember, His Majesty's new son is quite experienced in soldiering and diplomacy. Not to fault Your Graces' but if there is a man that could help bring about a quick and decisive outcome to this present unhappy state of affairs here in the north it is His Grace even though he be foreign. He is husband of the Late Queen's daughter, who is held with much affection in this land especially here in the north. If anyone can persuade the rebels..."   
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Dressed in a crimson brocaded robe, her long hair hanging loose about her in the privacy of her chambers, her feet curled beneath her in the large wing backed chair near the fire, Mary read Mallory's Morte D'Arthur, enjoying a bit of solitude. She turned a page reaching out to grasp the goblet of hot mulled cider at her elbow on the candlestick table beside her, taking a sip, she lay it down, absorbed in her reading. She did not hear the door connecting her chamber with the Earl of Durham's open upon the other side, the earl stepping through into the room, quietly, so as not to disturb her. She looked quite fetching sitting in the large chair the highlights in her glorious red-gold hair shining in the candlelight, her profile with that adorable retrouse nose visible in the fading light of the afternoon, her long dark lashes fanning against her slightly flushed cheeks, shifting slightly in her the chair, the movement affording Tom a tantalizing view of her chest and the swells of her breasts as the top of her robe parted slightly, a bit of the lace that edged her nightgown peeking out. Watching her, he felt the organ in his breeches swell with desire, the tip of his tongue snaking out from between his lips to moisten them then cleared his throat loudly to get her attention walking even further into the room.   
"I thought Your Grace might desire some company." He told her advancing even further, a smile playing about his mouth. "I hope that I will afford a bit more amusement than the work of the other Thomas that presently holds your attention."   
"What does Your Lordship propose to do? Shall we play at cards or chess for a wager?" Mary asked.   
"Cards unless, of course, Your Grace prefers chess? We could also engage in something a bit more intimate to pass the time. Care to share Mallory with me?" He asked.   
"If you wish, draw up the upholstered stool tucked in the corner there near the fireplace." Mary said pointing to it, then looking over at Tom, who pursed his lips pondering the possibilities.   
"Is not the chair large enough for two?" He asked, lifting a brow.   
"Possibly. We could try it. Does Your Lordship believe it will be comfortable enough?" Mary asked, uncurling her feet from beneath her, laying her book upon the candlestick table, standing.   
"If it proves not to be we can always scatter those pillows and that throw over there on the floor near the fire." Tom posed. "That is, if Your Grace does not mind."   
"Of course not!" Mary said. "As long as no one shall get the wrong idea about us if they should come in. We cannot have them thinking the worst."   
"Whispering about that we are lovers?" Tom supplied, his voice low and caressing, making shivers course down her spine.   
"Yes. Which they will ascertain is true if they find me seated in Your Lordship's lap, dressed thusly, reading." Mary stated indicating her robe and bare feet.   
"There is no need to fret, Darling. The entire house has gone to bed. Andrew and Lady Eleanor are locked in some corner engaging in Heaven knows what! All the others are fast asleep. That just leaves me and you to do whatever we please with no fear of discovery. No one will ever know, not a living soul." He said meaningfully, closing the gap between them, standing incredibly close so she could feel his hot breath against his face, listening to his seductive words swirl about her. "Shall I sit down in the chair?" He asked, moving about her to settle himself into the large wing backed chair. "Come sit." He instructed, patting one of his thighs, looking up at her, his eyes twinkling in the candlelight.   
Mary took a hesitant step closer, then another, standing before him, their eyes locking, when she stopped.   
"Sit down, Love." He encouraged, reaching up a hand, grasping one of hers, drawing her into his lap, closing his eyes for a moment as he felt her body descend against his , concealing his intense physical reaction as not to startle or alarm her, when her buttocks brushed against his rock hard thighs. Sweet Christ! She was a deliciously fragrant armful that set his blood to boiling. In his life, he had never felt about a woman the way he felt about her, how she stirred his emotions, awakened his baser instincts, stirred his lust and passion. He was willing to risk it all for her! He still smarted when he thought of what could have been had his father not been so intent to end his disagreement with the Earl of Shrewsbury about certain lands which ended when the two earls decided to marry their children to one another. Mary had only been a wee girlie of five and he a stripling of fifteen but he would have waited until she came of marriageable age. "Which tale are you reading?" He asked, placing a hand about her waist, his fingers splaying against her flat stomach.   
Mary contracted her stomach muscles at his touch, sitting up a tad straighter, nestling further back, her back brushing his front, her buttocks settling further against his groin, arousing Tom that much more. "The tale of Queen Guinevere, the part where Merlin warns King Arthur not to marry her because Lancelot would love her but King Arthur does not listen to Merlin's warning."   
"So he marries her anyway. Not heeding the magician's advice is not that how the story unfolds?" Tom asked, his head descending, his lips planting gentle kisses along the base of her neck, traveling northward to behind the narrow hollow behind her earlobe, making a shiver steal down her spine, she exhaled audibly. "What is that intoxicating fragrance that you are wearing so familiar yet so exotic?" He asked, nuzzling her ear with the tip of his nose. "I detect roses but what is the other scent?"   
"Jasmine." Mary answered, closing her eyes as his teeth nipped against her earlobe, gently. "Are we not supposed to be intently reading, My Lord?"   
"Do you not like my attentions, Mary?" Tom asked, his hand caressing her through the fabric of her brocaded robe and the thin silk of the nightgown she wore beneath it, stealing from her stomach to one of her hips.   
"You know I do, far too much than is prudent, Tom." Mary replied.   
"If that is the case, then mayhap we should be engaging in a pastime much more intimate that reading Mallory. You know that your skin turns to fire at my touch, Darling. Dare I hope that the same fever that rages within me for you rages within you for me? The flame-hot desire, I burn for you, Mary." He told her, taking his other hand to cup her chin, turning her chin to face him, Mary shifting in his lap, as the other hand skirted over her hip, down her upper thigh to nest between her legs, the tips of his long elegant fingers caressing her through the two layers of fabric.   
"Tom!" She breathed.   
"Yes, Love?" He asked. "What is it? Do you have a request? Shall I kiss you? Is that what you want? Or shall I go searching beneath your robe and nightgown for that most precious pearl that you promised me? Hmmm? Then again, you do not have to choose. I will be more than happy to do both. I did swear to His Majesty that I would tend to Your Grace's every comfort and pleasure whilst you were safely in my keeping. Tell me what would please you. Or I could kiss that precious pearl hidden between those lily white thighs of yours. Ah! What to do first?" He said, his voice low and seductive, his lips pressing a path of burning hot kisses along her jaw, capturing her lips with his in a searing kiss. "You have witchcraft in your lips, Moll." He whispered against her mouth using the nickname that was used among the Tudor cousins, his eyes searching hers, his gaze capturing her soul.   
"You just kissed me." She said, feeling herself begin to tremble with desire unable to resist even though she knew how wrong it was. If even a breath of what they were doing got out there would be severe consequences.   
"Shall I do it once more? You will bewitch me with your sweet kisses. I will be captured by your spell, My Fiery-haired Welsh witch. What is it that you do to me? Where all I can think of is spending endless nights within your arms engaged in sweet delicious carnal combat."   
"Endless nights? I won't be able to move after Your Lordship is done with me? How will I explain it to my ladies? The hard rides left me stiff?" She asked him.   
"Eheheheheheh." Tom laughed lightly. "In a manner of speaking, you will think of something that I am certain of. Your Grace has my promise that the discomfort will be worth every moment. I will ruin you for the other men that come after me. You will be sated, satisfied, weeping with pleasure, begging for more!" He explained each word punctuated by kisses down her jaw, along her neck whist the hand between her legs slipped beneath the fabric of her robe, tugging gently upon the thin silk, feeling her skin burning beneath his skilled touch. "Let me show you how good it can be. You know that I will never, ever break your heart."   
Oh, Blessed Christ! How she wanted him! All her feelings heighted because she knew of the great risks that they took, is this how her aunt and namesake felt with Charles Brandon? When he came to her when she was in mourning for Louis XII? Mary was not a widow. She was a newly married woman with a husband that, though they had lain together and the experience had been most pleasurable, clearly preferred the company and intimacy of men. What was the matter with her that she would be so faithless? Was it the fact that she was falling recklessly in love with this man? That she wanted to grasp, no matter how fleeting, a bit of what could have been? That she was still smarting horribly from the estrangement with Viscount Beauchamp and needed desperately to feel cherished and adored by a dashingly charming man? Someone like the Earl of Durham? She could not allow herself to think of what had happened with Ned Seymour, it made her heart ache to know that what she had had with him was probably lost forever. He had shown her how true love and passion could truly be, albeit clandestine, making her fall head over heels in love with him then he tossed it all away with cross hurtful words that left her crying until she was hoarse her heart shattered into a million pieces, a heart that Thomas Nicholls was desirous to mend. She had compared him unfavorably to Ned, clouded in the haze of the excitement of her first love affair; not remembering the qualities that he had that had so impressed her mother that the Spanish Queen had entertained serious thoughts of the pair marrying. Entering into a treasonous affair with him did not seem so daunting and horrible when her beloved mother had approved of the union from the start. However it would not be in the manner that Catherine would have wanted for her daughter. Dare she take the risk? She asked herself, closing her eyes, allowing her heart, body and soul to suppress the more rational thoughts inside her head. Yes! Let him show you how good it can be!   
A rap upon the door brought her out of her reverie, her body stiffening.   
"Your Grace?" One of the guards posted outside her door called the concerned tone in his words unmistakable. "Is all as it should be?"   
"If we say nothing mayhap he will go away. Oh Blast! Best answer that." Tom whispered thinking better of his first intention, helping Mary to slide from his lap, reluctantly.   
She walked to the door. Tom slinking down in the chair so the light from the candles would not project his silhouette on the walls opposite, avoiding a potential scandal.   
The heavy oak door creaked gently when she opened it ever so slightly, peering around it, the guard bowing when he saw her.   
"All is as it should be, Captain Rhys. Carry on!" Mary reassured him.   
"Yes, Your Grace." Ioan Rhys said with a brief bob of his head in respect.   
"Good Evening, Captain! May God Grant you a Good Night and a Peaceful Death." Mary told him.  
"Thank you, Your Grace, and you!" Ioan Rhys replied.   
Crisis avoided! Mary thought to herself shutting the door, sighing with obvious relief. "Oh, Hello! Where did you..." She exclaimed, almost colliding with Tom as she turned about.   
"I was waiting, Darling." He replied, inclining his head.   
"Oh... I did not hear..." Her words cut off as his mouth claimed hers, grasping her waist, yanking her against him, slamming her up against the chamber door for a moment, dancing about with her in the room, his mouth ravaging hers whilst a free hand frantically undid the sash of her robe, pushing it over her shoulders.   
Mary shook her shoulders, causing it to slip down off her arms, the robe pooling about her on the Oriental carpet beneath their feet, she stumbled over it as Tom pulled her with him toward the wing back chair still kissing her wildly, his free hand tugging at the fine silk of her nightgown, succeeding in baring her legs from feet to mid thigh, before sinking her down into the chair.   
"Sit." He commanded tearing his mouth from hers, proceeding to draw her legs apart kneeling before her, dipping his head, grasping beneath to pull her buttocks a fraction more forward upon the deep seat of the chair causing the fabric of her nightgown to ride up exposing more of her white thighs to his hungry lustful gaze.  
"Tom! Tom! What are you doing?" She whispered, concerned and excited all at once, looking down at how they were both positioned upon the chair. Certainly he did not intend to, or did.... Oh God! She thought blinking, her lips parting, swallowing nervously, her stomach fluttering, the muscles contracting as it registered to her what he was going to do.   
"Your Grace owes me a forfeit that I intend to claim." He replied. "You have a hidden precious jewel that I am going to find."   
Her breath hitched when his mouth touched her there, his ginger colored hair tickling and chafing gently against the tender skin of her inner thighs, clutching the arms of the chair for support, the pads of her fingers digging into the upholstered arms. "Oh, Sweet Blessed Jesu!" She whispered in the quiet of the room, feeling his tongue slash against her most intimate place, where the source of her pleasure was centered. "Did you find that which you were seeking?" She asked.   
Her body thrummed with aching need, intense want, and fierce desire all her senses heighted. What was it that he did to her? That made her burn flame-hot! God help her!   
"Oh, yes! Just where I thought it would be." He replied his words muffled between her thighs, resuming his attentions, a finger dipping into her slick core moving it in and out, whilst his tongue continued to swirl over her sensitive pearl of flesh, feeling the walls of her passage tighten about it, adding another, hooking them slightly, raking them inside her ever so slowly.   
Her head falling back, Mary cried out, her spine arching, her back lifting off the chair as she sought more of the exquisite pleasure he was affording her, one of her hands grasping the back of his head, fingers pressing into his scalp pushing his face further into her, shifting in the chair, moving her legs a fraction more apart, her heels lifting off the floor, her toes and the balls of her feet pressing into the rug, the fingers of her other hand holding onto one of the arms of the chair for dear life, unable to contain the shriek that tore from her throat as the world exploded into a thousand pieces behind her closed eyelids, her hips jerking violently as her crisis overtook her, her body throbbing, legs trembling as she rode out an intense orgasm .   
Withdrawing his fingers from her core, he rose to his feet, looking down, taking her in, and smiling smugly. She was so exquisitely beautiful in the afterglow, her eyes, half-closed, a small satisfied smile playing about her mouth, her skin luminous in the candlelight. "Hold onto that pearl for me, Darling. I will be back very soon to search for it again. Until that time I wish you a most pleasant night. I would stay but I dare not chance a scandal. If I ended up in your bed this night, I would never wish to leave. "He told her, turning to go, getting halfway to the door that separated their chambers when he heard her call him back.   
"Tom!" She rushed to him, the pair in each other's arms in moments. "One kiss! Please! Before you go!" She said, tilting her chin up, offering her mouth to his.   
"How can I refuse such a pretty request?" He asked, his mouth crushing against hers, Mary tasting herself on his lips, as his mouth moved over hers, taking all she had to give him and more. When they parted both were breathless. "Goodnight, My Darling!" Tom said, reluctantly releasing her.   
"Goodnight!" She panted, striving to regulate her breathing. Not wanting him to leave her but knowing it was for the best. Her eyes never leaving him as he slowly withdrew from her embrace, still riveted on him until he slipped through the door, closing it behind him.   
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Mary fell into a fitful sleep that night, her head swirling about with all manner of thoughts and feelings, finding herself in a most erotic dream about a man...   
Oh, Gracious! She would die with the pleasure of the feel of his lips upon her, nuzzling and teasing, arousing her to a fever pitch, she thought whilst he ravaged her. Coming up, thrusting inside her, his hands all over her, pulling her long shapely legs about his waist. Her arms snaking about his neck as she gave over to the passion and desire of her lover's intimate ministrations. She was burning for him, consumed with her passion, the pair moving together upon the feather mattress. "Oh, Tom..." She murmured in her sleep looking at his face, closing her eyes briefly. It this how it would be between them?   
"Come for me, Sweetheart." She heard an all too familiar voice say. Her eyes flying open to stare into the navy blue gaze of Edward Seymour, feeling him move within her hard and fast, bringing her closer and closer to Passion's peak.   
"Ned!" She woke with a start, her cheeks burning, her body glistening with a sheen of sweat. Opening her eyes she looked about her cold lonely bed and the empty room.   
She had had the strangest dream! She could smell the faint scent of sandalwood in the air, the taste of him on her mouth which she touched with her fingers feeling the mark of his kisses. Sitting up in bed, she shivered, feeling the wetness between her legs. It was only a dream! She told herself. Or was it? She could feel his touch all over her body as though he had just been with her. How could he have crept into her bed when she knew that he was in London? "Oh, Ned..." She thought, her heart constricting in her chest. What happened? Why? She would never take him back. He was lost to her forever. The only way she would ever consider forgiving him is if he came to her upon his knees, contrite and repentant swearing never to break her heart again. Even then would she still wish to have him? _____________________________________________________________________________________  
Edward Seymour opened his eyes, his body drenched in a cold sweat, his heart racing, his organ erect. He could smell the faint scent of the jasmine and roses she wore wafting about the air. He had dreamt of her. A most vivid erotic dream, he swore he felt her beneath him, felt her sheath tightening about his hardness as he thrust deep into her.   
Edward swore a vulgar oath, rubbing his temples with a thumb and forefinger. Damn! Damn! Damn! She was tormenting him! Appearing in the most erotic vivid dreams! He could feel her, smell her, taste her, hear her voice! Christ! How he desired her! He thought his heart constricting. He had been a fool! A complete and total arse! The reasons their relationship was all in tatters was all upon his shoulders. He was at fault! All due to a difference of opinion that he should have known well enough to keep quiet about, everything had seemed so golden and then had turned to ashes the next after their argument. God help him! He wanted her! He needed her! He loved her desperately! He would do all in his power to get her back. He would go down upon his knees and grovel if he had to. He would do anything, absolutely anything for her sake. He knew that he had ruined everything. Now he had to go about repairing the damage he had wrought. Unless they were cursed and there was nothing to be done about it? But he could not accept that what had happened between them was the end. It was not over between them. It never would be until she was completely and truly his once more!


	17. Chapter XVII

She lay awake for the rest of the evening, tossing and turning in the large, cold empty bed, unable to fall back asleep after that disturbingly erotic dream about her former lover. Why? Why would her mind be playing tricks on her like that? Having he come to her in such a fashion? It did not make sense. She was still hurting far too much from what was said during their argument, she could not find herself at present to forgive him, she did not wish to. Not now! Her heart was still bashed and broken. She had someone now that promised that he would never shatter her heart and leave her in tears, a new champion. Edward Seymour could go to the devil as far as she was concerned!   
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"You look like hell! What happened?" Tom Seymour asked, looking his brother up and down. "Unable to sleep?"   
Edward ran his fingers over his unshaven cheeks and blinked several times in an attempt to moisten his dry reddened eyes, grunting in assent.   
"That is not like you, Ned, to lose sleep. His Majesty overworking you with the cares and concerns of the realm or is there something more personal troubling you? A ginger-haired duchess perhaps?" Tom asked.   
"Shut up, Tom!" Ned snarled, going to the basin and pitcher of water. Pouring the cold water into the basin, and then splashing it onto his face drying it off with a bit of toweling.   
"Since the pair of you has quarreled you have been moping about like a hanged dog. I dare not chance speaking with you lest I have my head bitten off!" Tom observed.   
"Pair of us, of whom do you speak?" Edward asked, playing dumb.   
"The Duchess of Bedford and Cambridge." Tom Seymour replied.   
"Keep your nose out of my affairs!" Edward shot back at his brother, raising his voice slightly. "What passed between Her Grace and me is none of your concern!"   
"It is when Your Lordship has become surly and cross, unbearable to be about. We must find a cure for that which ails you, Ned because those closest to do not know how much longer we can abide you in this temper! Tossing yourself into your work is one thing but all day and night?"   
"His Majesty relies upon me. I am happy to serve!" Edward said defensively.   
"Bullocks!" Tom shot back. "There must be a way to raise your spirits. Cromwell does have several crates of books from the sacked monasteries that he is sending along to Her Grace of Bedford and Cambridge at Hunsdon mayhap His Majesty will allow you to accompany them? If only to bring about this foul mood to a close or find you a willing wench to fuck. I can procure you pretty, blue-eyed redhead if you wish."   
"No! I would set forth to Hunsdon with the Lord Privy Seal's presents if I can secure His Majesty's permission to travel."   
"With Her Grace within the safe protection and care of the Earl of Durham at present will His Majesty be of a mind to spare you? Durham is close blood kin to His Majesty, there is also news that Durham's younger brother, Lord Andrew is there. Would His Majesty countenance a third gentleman to protect and escort his daughter? The king relies upon your wise and prudent council during crisises as these; he will not let you go. I would not even give a thought to persuading Jane to speak with the king on your behalf, Ned; you know that you will get nowhere."Tom said.   
Edward sighed in resignation, pursing his lips. "Damn! Damn! Damn!" He spat. "His Majesty will not allow me to accompany the Lord Privy Seal's gifts especially with that wily fox guarding her person." He slammed his fist on the table. "What to do? What to do? What to do?"   
"Go visit John Wall and have something incredibly special made. Women adore jewelry, earbobs, necklace, rings, and brooches, anything costly and sparkly to adorn and enhance their persons." Tom suggested. "Be certain that whatever you purchase is sent along with Cromwell's crates of books, not in them, mind, but I would be certain that the presentation is as lovely as what is contained within, along with a message of greeting. Her Grace will have to notice."   
"But why am I sending costly gifts to a woman that is not my wife, Tom?" Edward asked. "I dare not cause a scandal and stir up speculation."   
"What manner of scandal is there to stir? The entire court is well aware of the affection and respect that you bear to the duchess. It will not be untoward to send along such tributes of admiration and desire to serve Her Grace if she has need of you. Look to the future, Ned! If, God Forbid, Don Franco does not ever return from one of his voyages and Her Grace has a son on her knee from that union... "Tom's voice trailed off the implication of his words all too clear.   
"Tom!" Edward warned. "Do not speak of such things. The only ambition I have is for matters to be set aright with Her Grace."   
"So you say, Ned, so you say." Tom said, not believing a bit of his brother's words. He suspected that there was more than affection and respect his brother felt for Mary Tudor.   
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Mary dove beneath the surface of the pond, her feet breaking, kicking water at Tom then slipping under, a moment later her head popped up, the lights in her red-gold hair shining in the morning light, droplets of water scatter about her, trickling down her chest and over the chemise that clung to her. Making her appear as a delectable water nymph, ducking beneath the surface of the water once more, swimming toward him.   
"So it is true? Your Grace does swim as a fish." Tom teased with a grin.   
"Did Your Lordship ever doubt it?" She asked cupping water in her hands, splashing at him, playfully, the water spraying in his face. "There are many talents I possess that Your Lordship is unaware." She flirted fluttering her eyes that fanned against her flushed pale cheeks.   
"Your Grace will enlighten me in due course. I will be privy to all your secrets."   
"If Your Lordship knows of all of me will you not tire? I will cease to intrigue and excite you." Mary asked.   
"I will never tire of Your Grace. What man could? Your figure, coloring and skin are all flawless! Even though the latter be scattered about with the most fetching freckles." Tom reassured her.   
"Do they please you, My Lord Durham?" She asked her blue eyes twinkling. "What other portions of my person are so honored?" Throwing him a saucy look she dove beneath the water once more affording him a delicious view of her flanks.   
Tom dove after her, amazed at what a strong swimmer she was. She laughed mischievously at him and dove beneath the water to emerge mid pond. His own laughter sounded now. "Her Majesty, the Late Queen Catherine taught you well, you vixen!" Tom said.   
Her sapphire blue eyes widened innocently. "My Lady Mother taught me many things. Several which I will reveal to Your Lordship in time."   
He swam over to her, and gently with a restrained passion that she instantly sensed took her face between thumb and forefinger. His blue-grey eyes regarding her gravely. "You have bewitched me, body, mind and soul, My Fiery Welsh witch."   
"Shhhh... Tom! Hush! Someone may hear." She protested pressing her fingertips against his lips to quiet him, which he gallantly kissed.   
"And will assume that we are playing at Courtly Love." He reassured her. "There is no shame in it."   
"So all shall know of my champion and the earl that pays me addresses as my lover?"   
"Lover in the most honorable sense, I would not offend you but I would kiss you."   
"No one but my husband has kissed me in public." Mary said.   
"He is gone north, Darling." Was the hoarse reply. "And has set Your Grace safely in my keeping to pay my addresses in such manner as befits a lady and her noble knight." He tipped her pale face firmly toward him touching his warm mouth to hers. He kissed her gently but she could sense the desire that he held firmly in check, the desire that he unleashed when the pair were in private. The tip of his tongue licked at the edges of her mouth, sending shivers through her.   
Then, gently, as he had kissed her he released her. "Oh my sweet Darling when I get you alone within the safe haven of your own home, what I shall do to you!" He vowed.   
"What does Your Lordship have in mind?" She asked.   
"All manner of intimacies that I would imagine Your Grace has yet to experience." He told her so that only she could hear.   
"Is that a promise, Sir?" She asked, a playful smile playing about her lips. How she enjoyed testing the limits of flirtation with him, learning just how far she could go knowing that he would always catch her if she ever faltered.   
"Eheheheheheh." He laughed nervously, moistening his lips with his tongue. "Yes! It is!"   
"I will look forward to the event when Your Lordship makes good upon that promise." She retorted, looking up at him through lowered lashes, her blue eyes sparkling with invitation.   
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Anne, Lady Beauchamp moaned in pain, clutching her abdomen as a spasm overtook her. God! She wished to get rid of the brat. In the close proximity of the court, it was common knowledge that her husband refused to sleep with her since she had horned him and proven liberal with her favors. That night of debauchery that had gotten her dismissed from court had resulted in this present inconvenience or it could have been the results of her romp with a coachman, footman and barmaid at the inn they had stopped at on the way to Wulf Hall. Anne sighed. The maid had the tastiest little love oven and prettiest tits she had seen in a long time. Fortunately, Anne had found a lass in Bedwyn, the village near the manor that tendered to Anne's needs when she craved a woman. The girl was a pretty thing. Anne enjoyed pleasuring her as well. If her dashing and bold but rather prudish husband knew of her antics, Edward would beat her black and blue and send her off to a convent as he had his first wife, Catherine Fillol. That is if he could find a convent to send her to.   
"God's Toenail! When will the pain end?" She cried, bringing her knees up to her chest, moaning.   
"I would not have done it for the likes of her. She is evil that one, filled with malice and the devil.   
I did it because ye asked me to, for that gentle and kind infidel doctor and his blessed and gracious mistress. How such a good Catholic as Her Grace knows of such practices." The old Gipsy woman told the woman standing beside her.   
"Her Grace has many tenants. She does what she must to ease their distress no matter how grave."   
"This has ended badly. Lady Beauchamp will be rendered barren. Once she aborts this babe there will be no more."   
Anne screamed as a severe pain gripped her. The blood began to flow, staining her thighs, night rail, the sheets and everything else it came into contact with as she began to release herself of her unwanted burden.   
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Cromwell peered into the crates one last time, tossing some additional straw inside to keep the treasures dry and to protect them from jostling about in transport before the servants nailed them shut. There was a rather diverse selection of books for Her Grace of Bedford and Cambridge's growing library.   
"That is the last of it." Richard Rich said. "Though I daresay I am still a wee bit uncertain what the purpose of sending all these books to Her Grace serves."   
"Richie! Richie! Her Grace is a lover of learning. I am merely being kind."   
Richard Rich raised a brow over an eye. He was not buying what the Lord Privy Seal was telling him. "You expect me to believe that? I know that your gift has a purpose. Your Lordship is not just being generous to Her Grace because she was recently married and could possibly be carrying Don Franco's heir as we speak. That is it? Is it not? Your Lordship is not putting anything to chance, are you?"   
"What fore do you speak, Richard? There must be something more than music, dancing, games, riding and conversation for Her Grace and Lord Durham to fill their hours together though I daresay that Lord Durham is of a mind to think of other diversions that would please a young lady such as Her Grace."   
"Hopefully none that will land him in the same predicament that Lord Thomas Howard is presently in." Rich stated.   
"Thomas Nicholls is fiercely loyal to the crown and intelligent. He would never engage in any behavior so rash and stupid as to land himself in prison." Cromwell replied. "I have acquiesced to Viscount Beauchamp's request to send Her Grace a gift."   
"On behalf of Her Majesty, the Queen?"   
"No, I reckon that Edward Seymour is quite distraught as to the state of his relationship with Her Grace in regards to the present uprising in the north though it is of his own making, the gift is most likely a bid to effect reconciliation. What good it will do him. My agents tell me that whatever manner of relationship Her Grace and Viscount Beauchamp had is badly broken, destroyed beyond recognition which Edward deeply regrets hence his diligence and work at His Majesty's cares."   
"The present uprising in the north." Rich supplied.   
"Exactly! Leaving Lord Durham to step into his shoes as Her Grace's champion and protector at the behest of the His Majesty the King." Cromwell added.   
"Which, with all due respect to His Majesty, should have been done in the first place given the relationship between Her Grace and His Lordship, there would be no cause of argument and broken relations if Tom Nicholls had been given the care of Her Grace in the beginning." Rich said.   
"Thomas Nicholls loyalty to the Crown is unquestioned though he does not support Reform. He owes his livelihood to His Majesty's affection and their blood ties not to mention his talents as a politician. There are few men besides Tom Nicholls that can navigate the factions and intricacies of the court in the manner that His Lordship can. His fierce intelligence and diplomatic skills never cease to confound and amaze me. He has the Devil's own luck always managing to land on his feet with his head upon his shoulders. He will not engage in a manner that could be construed as untoward or inappropriate with Her Grace. A bit of a flirtation and mayhap, a Courtly Love Affair, but that it all."   
"You seem completely confident in him, My Lord."Richard Rich said to Cromwell.   
"I have to be." Cromwell replied. "His protection of Her Grace appeases those with Yorkist blood, a faction at the present time that we must be aware of. There will be more overt expressions of support since Her Grace is wed and is under the watchful eyes of that Wily Northern Fox."   
"Keeping the King's vixen within the cozy comfort of her den." Rich supplied.   
"My Lord Privy Seal!" A messenger in the king's livery came in interrupting their conversation, bearing a message in his hand which he promptly handed to Cromwell, who broke the seal and scanned the contents, looking up with a wry smile upon his face. "It appears that Viscount Beauchamp will be traveling to Hunsdon afterall! His Majesty has given instructions that he present Her Grace of Bedford and Cambridge with a pair of mastiff pup from his own bitch. The pups have been recently weaned."   
"So Lord Beauchamp is reduced to presenting Her Grace gifts?"   
"Come now, Richard, you know as well as I do that Her Majesty influenced this enterprise. Her Majesty is quite determined to repair the rift between Her Grace and Viscount Beauchamp. If she must send along His Lordship to deliver His Majesty's gift of a pair of mastiff pups then so be it!" Cromwell explained. "Queen Jane will do whatever is in her power to effect reconciliation."   
_________________________________________________________________________________________________  
"God's cock! You appear rather smug. Why the change in mood?" Tom Seymour asked his older brother, leaning upon the entrance of the doorway to Edward's office noting the smile playing about his mouth.   
"I am to travel to Hertfordshire to deliver a gift from His Majesty to Her Grace the Duchess of the Bedford and Cambridge." Edward said.   
"What matter of present is it this time?" Tom Seymour asked. "Not another fine mount for Her Grace. Well, unless one considers..." He added with leer.   
"Thomas!" Edward warned. "No, it is not another horse but a pair of mastiff pups. His Majesty gave me the order this morning when I attended upon him; the Lord Privy Seal has been given the instruction in writing. I am to collect a few items and leave to present the wee beasties to Her Grace."   
"And affect reconciliation with said esteemed lady which Her Majesty the Queen is so desirous that the pair of you to obtain." Tom Seymour said with a smug smile. "Her Grace dare not displease the Queen of whom she is held in such high regard."   
"Nay, however I was harsh and cruel in my expression causing Her Grace much grief and to lament in a most distressing manner. I anticipate a frosty reception." Edward said.   
"Then set about to thaw Her Grace turning the coldness to steam." Tom Seymour suggested. "There was much affection between the pair of you certainly it has not all evaporated?"   
"Lord Durham may not allow it. He will use his familial ties to his advantage." Edward said wisely. He knew his opponent and the tactics that he would employ to keep Mary and Edward separated.   
"Ah! But even he cannot refuse the Queen of England." Tom posed.   
__________________________________________________________________________________________________  
It was late afternoon, the sun already setting behind the trees, when Edward Seymour, his party and the gifts intended for Her Grace the Duchess of Bedford, Cambridge and Cadiz clamored into the courtyard of Hunsdon House grooms and footmen of Her Grace's household rushing forward to greet them.   
He spied her almost instantly, looking radiantly beautiful in her midnight blue velvet gown, standing beside Lord Durham, a cloak of lynx fur lined with crimson velvet draped about her shoulders, her hair caught in a snood decorated with pearls, a black satin band graduating from three inches to a half inch going across over her head from temple to temple edged in pearls and emeralds. Their gazes meeting and holding for the briefest of moments, sapphire locking with stormy blue, Edward feeling his heart constrict in pain and a raw naked longing steal through him. Their estrangement and separation had done nothing to change his feelings for her. He was as enchanted and desperately in love with her as ever, he thought feeling his heart ache.   
Her reaction to him was difficult to ascertain. He knew that she would not publicly show her displeasure upon seeing him once more as he traveled on the King's Business. His eyes traveled back to where she stood unable to tear his eyes away, meeting the steely cold gaze of the Earl of Durham. Thomas Nicholls stood protectively behind her, his body shadowing hers.   
Edward dismounted tossing the reins to a waiting groom as Mary came forward.   
"Viscount Beauchamp, what do I owe the pleasure?" Her voice was coolly formal belying the spots of color that tainted her high cheekbones. Could it be the weather, there was a bit of a breeze or was it an indication of the same turmoil that was going on inside of her upon seeing him.   
"I come bearing gifts and greetings from Their Majesties and the Lord Privy Seal, Your Grace." Edward said, sketching her an elegant courtly bow inclining his head with respect kissing Mary's offered hand.   
"We welcome Your Lordship once more to Hunsdon. It is my pleasure to extend the hospitality to Your Lordship for as long as Your Lordship has need of it. If Your Lordship would follow me inside there are refreshments, a hot bath awaiting and a warm place for a small respite if Your Lordship wishes." Mary said giving him leave to rise from his obeisance which he did, their eyes locking once more. "I trust that Your Lordship had a most pleasant journey?"   
The corners of his mouth tugged upward into a smile. "Thank you, Madame, it was not without incident."   
"No highwaymen or vagabonds along the road?" Tom Nicholls asked.   
"No, Lord Durham, just the antics of this pair of scamps to contend with." Edward said, motioning for two grooms in his livery to come forward with the pair of mastiff pups. "Your Grace, for Madame with His Majesty's affection and felicitations." He added, taking one of the pups from one of the grooms, presenting it to Mary, passing the animal off from his arms to hers. "Oh, Thomas, look! Is it not the sweetest creature? Look at that face!" Mary said, turning about with to give Tom Nicholls a closer look, the puppy settling against its new mistress, paws over a shoulder, sniffing her face and licking her cheek, making her laugh."Viscount Beauchamp please convey to His Majesty that I am honored and humbled by such a generous gift. There is not one but... Two!"   
"Yes, Your Grace, His Majesty sent a pair."   
"Both gentlemen dogs?" Mary asked, pulling away the puppy from nuzzling her neck to check its sex, then quickly putting it back when the wee beast protested. "Shhhhhh..." She crooned soothing it, her fingers caressing its head and neck.   
Edward Seymour nodded. "Would Your Grace like to see the other one?"   
"Let Lord Durham hold it." Mary replied.   
"As Your Grace wishes." Edward murmured, inclining his head respectfully as he seethed inside wanting to swipe that smug arrogant smile off of Thomas Nicholls' face, handing the other pup to him. "Here you are, My Lord!" He said.   
"Thank you, Viscount Beauchamp." Tom said, clearly emphasizing Edward's title, making certain that he knew that Edward was beneath him being a mere viscount to Tom's earl. "Has Your Grace thought of names for these two beasties?" He asked Mary as the other pup snuggled against him, burying its coal black nose into the earl's chest, grunting with contentment.   
"Hmmmm... " Mary pursed her lips pondering the possibilities for several moments. "Tristan and Galahad." She replied. "This one will be Galahad after the Perfect Knight in the Tales of King Arthur. That one will be Tristan, King Mark of Cornwall's nephew, the one that loved Iseult, King Mark's wife." She indicated the one that Tom was holding.   
"If I may, Your Grace, there are more presents."   
"Cannot they not be brought into the Great Hall or My Presence Chamber? I daren't keep Your Lordship and the gentlemen out in the elements for much longer. There is a good Italian wine and a small repast for you all and a fine hot bath. Please avail yourselves before it gets too late and cold. The autumn chill is settling in." Mary said, turning about, leading the way into the manor house.   
__________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Two hours later, bathed, washed, dressed in a brocaded robe sipping a glass of the fine Italian vintage near the fire place, Edward Seymour heard a gentle rap upon the door to Presence chamber of his suite.   
"Come!" He called, turning his head in the direction of the door.   
The door opened, revealing the Duchess accompanied by two of her women that Edward recognized as the former harem concubines, Drusilla and Lavinia. "Good Evening, Viscount Beauchamp, I thought it my duty, My Lord, to see that Your Lordship was properly settled and that you were made most comfortable here at Hunsdon, I apologize for the hour of my visit, sir. I hope that I have not interrupted Your Lordship as you dress for dinner. "I pray that Your Lordship is pleased with the hospitality. Thank you for seeing to the placement of the books in the barn for the evening. Mass will be at seven sharp in the chapel on the morrow. "   
"There is no need to apologize, Madame. I was just enjoying a glass of that fine Venetian vintage His Grace the Duke had sent. Would Your Grace care to come inside for some refreshment?"   
"At this hour and with Your Lordship dressed thusly? Do you deem that wise, My Lord?"   
"Your Grace's reputation and Good Name will always be upheld and protected by me as a loyal subject of His Majesty the King. It is my duty. Nothing untoward or improper will tarnish Your Grace's reputation. Upon my honor, I will see to it. Besides you have wisely brought two of your ladies as chaperones. I would not insult Your Grace by attempting any manner of behavior that could be considered untoward in their presence."   
"As long as the reputation of Your lady wife..."   
"Lady Anne places the horns of a cuckold upon my head with her liaison with Sir Francis Bryan amongst others."   
"My Lord, I am so sorry! But Lady Beauchamp is paying dearly for her behavior having been banished from court." Mary exclaimed finding herself moving into the room with her two women. "If it is any consolation, Sir Francis does have a reputation as a debaucher of women. I would warrant that he has tired of your lady and has discarded her." Despite their estrangement, she placed a comforting hand on his forearm, squeezing it reassuringly, sympathy over coming Good Sense. Poor Man! He had the most horrible luck with unfaithful spouses, first Catherine Fillol and now Anne Stanhope.   
Starting at the contact, he gasped, looking down into her face, the heat of passion moving up his arm. "Don't." He warned, his voice husky.   
"My Lord Beauchamp." Mary said formally expertly hiding her rioting emotions. She had not been expecting that she would still have such an intense physical attraction to this man after what had occurred between them taking great pains to masque her reaction to the spark of desire that shot up her arm when she touched him.   
"Your Grace." He said, his voice sounding like a velvet caress, the timber of it sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. They would not be in the situation they presently found themselves if he had wooed her with this smooth tone instead of shouting at her, she thought.   
He then did something completely unexpected, kneeling down upon the carpet in front of her, bowing his head, submissive and contrite.  
"Get up! Please, My Lord, do rise..." Mary ordered, her cheeks flaming furiously with embarrassment and secret pleasure. It had not taken him long at all to acknowledge the intense pain he had caused her and seek forgiveness.   
"I was a total wretch... I... Oh, Mary, I am so, so sorry! You know how sorry I am? I voiced some opinions and said some words that I knew hurt Your Grace deeply. I shouted and raged... I pray that you do not despise me. I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me for my grave offences against you." He lifted his head.   
Mary at loss for what to say, he had gone down on his knees... "I must see to the final preparations for the evening meal." She stated attempting to keep calm. Her emotions were high, she was still incredibly attracted to him, and she could not deny that despite all that had happened, especially when he was kneeling before with just a robe to cover him. She wanted to run her palms and fingertips beneath that robe all over his chest and shoulders. But she didn't. "Shall I call Your Lordship's grooms to help you dress?" She asked, her voice quavering, swallowing nervously.   
"I dreamt about you. You came to me at night. We... I cannot stop thinking about you." He stated, not to be put off.   
Mary blushed scarlet at his revelation, becoming quite flustered. "You should not say such things!" She admonished but she was trembling.   
"Why shouldn't I say such things? Because you cannot stop thinking about me? Even with the earl about it is me that comes to you in your dreams." His voice was a seductive caress. His mouth a fraction of an inch from hers, lifting his chin, he captured her lips with his in a hot burning kiss, one of his palms going about to hold her head steady.   
Mary fell to her knees, grasping one of his forearms the other splaying against his chest between where the sides of the robe strove to meet to steady her. She could feel the muscles beneath her hand well defined from wielding the weight of a sword and other instruments of warfare.   
Edward deepened the kiss, his tongue probing the seam of her lips to gain entrance which gradually gave way with gentle coaxing. Edward pulling Mary with him, never breaking their kiss, whilst he sat back in the chair, pulling her down in his lap, his hands running up and down her back to her buttocks as his mouth continued to ravage hers.   
"I have a longing for you." He whispered against her wet and swollen lips, he could feel her shaking with desire against him. She was not totally lost to him, was she? Not after he had kissed her senseless. "You do not despise me completely do you? I need to know that you still care about me. Are we worth fighting for? Or are you lost to me forever?"   
Mary shook her head, which was swimming. What had just happened between them? Oh, Jesu! She was still in love with him. What was she to do now? Part of her still desired the Earl of Durham.


	18. Chapter XVIII

"Chicken pies with vegetables in that savory gravy with the rosemary and white wine." Mary said to the cook. The pair of them was pouring over menus for the next several days deciding upon what the household was to eat.   
"Lord Durham and Viscount Beauchamp and some of the other gentlemen went out fishing this morning, Your Grace. God willing, there will be quite a catch and the creatures can be served for supper this evening with some of those Saville lemons that Lord Andrew brought from his travels and the dill in the garden. Some butter and more sweet wine from the German states will make a lovely sauce." The cook said to the duchess.   
"That sounds lovely. Along with the chicken and vegetable pies then some good English beef. "Mary suggested.   
"Yes, Your Grace. We took the liberty of setting one to the roasting on a spit early this morning. "There is a suckling pig as well."   
"Suckling pig with fresh applesauce to go with it?" Mary asked. She loved pork, boar being one of her favorites but she would never turn her nose up at suckling pig. The cooks she employed in her kitchens made a particularly delicious one. Several households of nobles and gentry in the surrounding area had asked that their cooks be taught how to prepare it they had also asked how to learn how to prepare the way Mary's cooks did the beef.   
"Yes, Your Grace. I remembered just how you liked it with the wee bit of cinnamon and tart." The cook replied with a smile. "Had to save some of the apples that were picked for dessert there is an apple crumble, plum tart and gingerbread with whipped cream."   
"Pardon the intrusion Your Grace but there have been riders in His Grace the Duke's livery riding toward to manor house. His Grace was not among them but it appears that he has sent quite a tribute. They be leading about a half dozen or more fine horses, some crates and barrels." Rhys came into inform Mary.   
"Do let me know when they are closer. I would like to greet them when they arrive in the courtyard. Have Lord Durham and Viscount Beauchamp returned from fishing? Did the pair of them not leave after Mass this morning? They have been gone for quite some time are they not due back?"Mary asked ashamed to admit that she was missing the pair of them.   
"The lake on the estate is well stocked with carp and trout, Your Grace. Mayhap their Lordships have been taking advantage of it?" Rhys posed to his mistress. "Certainly the pups they took with them will scare the otters away."   
Mary made a face. "Poor beasties, you know, David, they are quite fetching to look at and amusing to watch. They are as tiny fools and the acrobats all rolled into one." She told him describing the otters.   
"Your Grace would not be so charitable knowing that those scamps are responsible for eating a good portion of the carp and trout that reside in the lakes, rivers and streams upon Your Grace's estates. Those vermin need to be taken care of, Madame, no matter how amusing they may be." Rhys reminded her. "Though I daresay they are an amusing lot to watch swimming about. Ah! Here they are now!" He added looking out of the window.   
Mary rose from where she sat, instinctively smoothing the skirts of her gown, dashing over to stand beside David Rhys, looking out of the diamond paned window as the pair of lords sauntered across the inner courtyard of the house, chatting amiably with one another, their fishing poles balanced carelessly upon their shoulders. Behind them several servants walked with what appeared to be about a dozen and a half carps and trout strung on poles.   
Tom was the first to catch sight of the duchess, raising his chin, shielding the sun from his eyes with a hand, he squinted, grinning widely, flashing his even white teeth as he spied her staring down at himself and Edward Seymour through the window of her Presence chamber, bringing the hand from shielding his eyes to his mouth he winked and blew her a kiss.   
"Do you think that wise, My Lord?" Edward asked in cool measured tones angry that he had not spied Mary first. "Such gestures could incite untoward gossip and damage Her Grace's reputation and Good Name."   
"I was just showing Her Grace Cousinly Affection, Lord Beauchamp. There was nothing dishonest about it." Tom retorted his voice just as icy as the Queen's brother's, his blue-grey eyes glittering with challenge whilst looking arrogantly down his fine aristocratic Norman nose.   
"Peace, Lord Durham. I am only concerned for how matters appear to those that are not aware of the deep filial affection that Your Lordship bears toward Her Grace. Others no so aware of the affection and the high esteem which you hold Her Grace, in may misconstrue the nature of Your Lordship's actions. I was merely warning Your Lordship of the possible repercussions of such a gesture should someone had observed it and misread the intent." Edward explained to Tom. Behind his words was a warning. Edward knew from firsthand experience how close daily proximity to and the present position Durham found himself in could lead to inappropriate feelings toward the duchess placed within his keeping. He dare not betray His Majesty the king by engaging in any behaviors that could be observed as treasonous.   
"Thank you, Lord Beauchamp. Though I do appreciate your interest, I do believe that I have all well in hand where the welfare of Her Grace is concerned. What harm is there in a wee bit of Courtly Flirtation between cousins who have a long association and affectionate regard for one another? Her Grace knows the manner of my intent is innocent that there was absolutely nothing salacious about it." Tom reassured Edward the measure of his words making it clear that Lord Beauchamp should mind his own business.   
"I did not question Your Lordship's intent toward Her Grace this past summer. I would expect the same courtesy." Tom added, his mind flashing back to the intimacies her had observed between Mary Tudor and Edward Seymour. He knew that they had been lovers before her marriage to the duke. He was too well-born to toss it in the face of the knight's son from Wiltshire. He would not shame or hurt the woman he was disparately in love with.   
"I would not question if I did not ascertain Her Grace's Good Name could be placed in jeopardy due to a Cousinly Flirtation.. The welfare of the Duchess of Bedford and Cambridge is a prime concern of mine as Her Majesty the Queen's brother who bears Her Grace great affection and hold her in high esteem. Queen Jane would be distressed if aspersions were cast against Her Grace who is a lady renowned for her piety and virtue." Edward stated.   
Tom held his tongue, tempted to throw the viscount's estrangement with Mary Tudor into his face but he did not. He could sense Edward Seymour was still in love with her. Though he did his best to hide it, Tom was not so easily fooled. "Shall we get the fish to the kitchens?" He asked.   
Edward nodded.   
__________________________________________________________________________________________  
Mary rushed down to the courtyard to greet her husband's men, who clattered into the courtyard with six fine Arab horses, two deer carcasses, several braces of grouse and pheasants, two barrels and what appeared to be other gifts.   
"His Grace the Duke of Bedford and Cambridge sends Your Grace, his beloved wife, greetings and sends the gifts, his warmest regards and praises to Almighty God in His infinite mercy that Your Grace continues to enjoy the best of health." The captain greeted Mary, bowing deeply before her, placing a packet of letters in her hands. "There is a letter there for the Earl of Durham from His Grace of Bedford and Cambridge. I was instructed to place it into His Lordship's hands."   
"Lord Durham?" Mary asked.   
"Yes, Your Grace." The captain replied.   
"Lord Durham is there." Mary indicated where the earl stood not far off examining the horses. "My Lord!" She called out motioning for the earl to come to her.   
Tom caught her eye, raising a brow, his lips quirking in a smile, rushing over. "Your Grace, how may I serve you?" He asked with a quick bow of his head in respect.   
"There is a letter for Your Lordship from His Grace the Duke of Bedford and Cambridge." She said handing it to him. The brief touch of their fingers in the exchange send a jolt of sexual electricity up her arm, she lowered her eyes modestly flushing slightly, trying to mask her physical attraction to this man. She still found him wildly appealing even though she knew that she was still in love with Ned Seymour. The sight of the handsome viscount murmuring soothing words to a fine black Arab stallion made her heart race that much faster, how his long elegant fingers ran over the animal's neck. Would that be the manner in which he would caress her when they found themselves alone once more? She found herself aching with longing thinking about it.   
Tom broke the seal of the duke's letter scanning the contents, his brow furrowing his lips pursing. "I have been called north as soon as I am able. Apparently my presence is needed." He said, his eyes meeting Mary's, the disappointment clear.   
"My servants will help Your Lordship with anything you need in order to make your travel north run more smoothly." Mary offered.   
"It states in the letter that Viscount Beauchamp will take over the protection and seeing to the welfare of Your Grace. His Grace says that he has notified His Majesty and that the king would be most agreeable to the change of events so that Your Grace and I need not fret." Tom said, looking over at Edward Seymour.   
"What is this?" Edward asked hearing his name mentioned he handed the lead that was hold the Arab stallion over to a waiting groom, walking over.   
"Lord Durham is needed up north with My Lord Husband, His Grace of Norfolk and the Earl of Shrewsbury. He must leave forthwith. Don Franco says that he is most confident that His Majesty will agree to the transference of my guardianship from His Lordship to you, Viscount Beauchamp." Mary supplied.   
"It will be my great pleasure to undertake such a task, Your Grace as so pleases His Majesty the King." Edward said, the timbre of his words sending a thrill down her spine.   
The earl's trunks were quickly packed and he was prepared to travel within two hours. He asked for and was granted several minutes to say farewell to the duchess. The pair made their good-byes in the first floor library with Drusilla and Lavinia standing as chaperones.   
"May God grant Your Lordship a safe trip north. Godspeed!" Mary said softly gazing up at him.   
"Would I be overbold if I hoped to receive a kiss farewell?" He asked the timbre of his voice gently hoarse with longing, stepping closer, his strong and powerful warrior's body pressing close, cornering her against a table, forcing her to tilt her chin up, their eyes locking, sapphire staring into stormy blue.   
Mary's mouth went dry, her heart pounding a rapid tattoo in her chest, anticipating what he would do next. Her tongue darting out from between her lips, moistening them with the pointed tip, closing her eyes when he roughly pulled her against his rock hard body, capturing her mouth with his, kissing her fiercely, roughly, a hand cradling the back of her neck as his mouth moved over hers, his free hand hitching her up on the table, setting her down none too gently.   
"Oh, Sweet Jesu, Darling!" He whispered hotly against her wet and swollen mouth. "Yes, give me something sweet to help comfort and keep me cozy and warm in those cold and lonely evenings."   
"Tom!" She gasped, feeling a hand run up and down her back, sending chills down her spine, the hairs of his day's growth of beard chafing at the tender skin about her mouth as he continued to kiss her a hand reaching up to trace against a cheekbone. "Tom! Please! This is most improper and well you know it! If someone were t o come in unannounced..." She whispered urgently, tilting her chin down.   
His lips brushed the bridge of her nose, the hand cradling the back of her head coming about to hold her chin, tilting it back up. "One more taste, Darling! One more taste of those precious delicious lips before I must go." He pleaded, low and husky next to her mouth, capturing her lips once more, running his tongue along the seam of her mouth, making a low sound of triumph in the back of his throat when they opened under his, slipping his tongue inside to fence with hers for several minutes, the kisses deepening, becoming more impassioned until he released her, chuckling when Mary whimpered in disappointment, she had enjoyed his attentions far too much. "Will you miss me?"   
She nodded mutely. "I will see you at Christmastide. Write to me until then." She told him.   
"Your Grace will not be too involved with matters here at Hunsdon to spare a thought for me?" He teased, unable to resist planting tender kisses along a cheekbone to one of her temples.   
"Tom..." She warned, nudging him away. "You have to leave, please, before you tempt me to ask you to stay."   
The corners of his mouth lifted in a rakish smile. "Miss me, Moll?" He asked, using her family nickname.   
"That is a foolish question..."   
"Will you miss me?" He asked once again, running an index finger down her cheek, knowing full well that she would but wanting to hear the words from her own lips.   
"Desperately!" She replied. "So very desperately!"   
"Your Grace! Your Grace! There is a gentleman in His Majesty's livery in the courtyard." One of the women cried peering out.   
Tom sighed. "I will be there in a moment!" He said.   
"No... No, My Lord! Not you! His Majesty requires Viscount Beauchamp at court." Drusilla said leaning out the window.   
"Am I to still venture north?" Tom asked.   
"Leave His Majesty's Precious Pearl of Christendom unprotected?" She asked.   
Tom grinned wolfishly unable to hide his reaction to the news that he would be staying and the viscount would be leaving. King Henry was the most fickle of men. "So I am to stay?" He asked.   
Drusilla nodded muttering something in Arabic about the virile earl, her incredibly feminine mistress and hot pleasure filled evenings to come. "He will not be riding north but a fine exquisitely bred half-Spanish filly." She giggled in Arabic to Lavinia.   
"She will mount him and ride him well." Lavinia retorted in the same tongue.   
"Ah, to master that fine stallion." Drusilla said, both women grinned lasciviously, giggling some more.   
Tom looked to the pair of maids of honor then to Mary, arching a brow over an eye, his mouth curving in a smile. "Your women approve of me." He observed, his smile widening into a grin. Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her, teasing her with the tip of his nose, rubbing it along hers, making her laugh, lunging for him, yanking him close, his hard chest crushing her breasts, his mouth ravaging hers, kissing her roughly, passionately until she was breathless.   
"Devil!" She hissed.   
He laughed wickedly. Then his lips traveled along the curve of her throat, breaking away from her when there was a knock on the library door which was opened to reveal Edward Seymour.   
"There has been a change in plans. I have been called back to court. As His Majesty's prerogative he has decided that I am needed back with the Privy Council. I have come to tender my farewells, Your Grace. My bags have been packed. I am ready to travel."   
Fortunately Mary had settled her feet down upon the fine Oriental carpet and far enough away from the Earl of Durham as not to cause a scandal. She did not know if Edward could ascertain that she had been recently and most thoroughly kissed, that her lips were red and swollen with Tom's kisses, that there was a gentle pink stain against her cheeks that traveled down her neck over her chest to the tops of her breasts, that she was doing her upmost to mask the fact that she was trembling slightly due to her reaction to Lord Durham. Mary cleared her throat. "I wish Your Lordship a safe journey. May God grant you, Godspeed, Lord Beauchamp." Mary said, holding out her right hand to be kissed.   
Edward took it, bowing his head, his mouth brushing upon the top, the hairs of his moustache tickling the smooth soft skin of her hand, making her eyes widen slightly. "Your Grace. I know that I leave you in the most capable hands of Lord Durham."   
"Do not fret, Lord Beauchamp. Her Grace's welfare and protection is well in hand." Tom reassured Edward. "Is it not with some urgency that Your Lordship travel back to London?"   
"Unfortunately, Lord Durham is correct, I dare not tarry." Edward said to Mary, squeezing her hand within his gloved one before releasing it, a subtle and covert gesture.   
"Fare thee well, My Lord." Mary said watching Edward turn upon his heel to leave.   
"With Your Grace's wishes of Godspeed I have no doubt that my travel to London will be most uneventful." Edward stated as he walked through the open door to the library on his way back to court Mary's eyes following his retreating back until he was out of sight turning about to find Tom behind her, his body pressing against the back of hers a big strong elegant hand going about her tiny waist, moving her against him, holding her close whilst the other pushed to door closed, it shut with a resounding click.   
His palm moved up and down her side, whilst he nuzzled an earlobe. "Do not fret, Moll Darling, Your Grace will be safe with me." He stated, his lips pressing hot kisses along the chords of her neck. "I swear on all that I hold holy and sacred."   
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There were guests in the Great Hall that evening, Mary was known for her hospitality and keeping the best table in the county. The nobles and gentry on the nearby estates and officials and alderman in the nearby towns coveted invitations to dine with Her Grace. Competing with one another to be invited that evening there were several lords, landed gentry and their wives that had come.   
Mary chose what she wore with care that evening, after bathing in a hot tub the water scented with her favorite combination of jasmine and roses, properly dried and powdered her women helped her into her undergarments of the finest linen and lace, affixing rosette garters upon her stockings that were clocked up the sides with dragons and Tudor roses, her petticoats came next. The gown was crimson velvet, the bodice embroidered all over with wildflowers and butterflies in silk and gold thread, accented with pearls, opals and golden topazes, the cream silk of her chemise pulled through the slashes in her sleeves and bodice. Her red-gold hair was brushed off her face, a French hood set upon her head edged with pearls and fire opals that caught the light of the candles. She wore the opals that Franco had sent about her slender throat and in her ears, the gryphon brooch that Tom had given her pinned to her corsage, gazing at her reflection in the large pier glass that had been another gift from her husband, making certain that she looked presentable for her guests.   
"Your Grace looks very beautiful this evening. Madame will outshine every lady in the hall." Lavinia remarked, approvingly. "His Lordship will be unable to take his eyes from you. He will be completely captivated." She whispered so that only Mary could hear her.   
Mary cast her maid a warning look. She dare not incite gossip. "His Lordship will show his appreciation for my station and position in this house, Lady Lavinia, nothing more." Mary replied back, her voice as low as her maid's, unable to hide the gentle flush that stole up over her skin.   
"Ah! It pleases Your Grace that His Lordship finds you so fair to look upon. Lord Durham quite fancies, Madame, methinks." Lavinia told her mistress.   
"Your Ladyship is far too bold!" Mary stated, the flush in her cheeks deepening, she and the women making their way to the Great Hall. She had hoped that Lord Durham found her particularly lovely this evening even though she knew that she should not.   
__________________________________________________________________________________________________  
"Your Grace looks beautiful this evening." Tom said offering an arm to escort her.   
"Beautiful for you." She whispered. They briefly found themselves alone.   
The corners of his mouth lifted in a smile that quickly broke into a grin. "That color becomes Your Grace; it gives your skin a sheen to it. I do wonder if it is that way all over." He said with a wink.   
"My Lord!" Mary admonished him. "You are far too bold."   
"I had thought that Your Grace found my boldness charming." He teased.   
Lowering her eyes, the duchess blushed prettily. "I do." She admitted.   
"Tudor women like their men bold." He stated referring to her and her aunts, The Queens of Scotland and France who both had checked and interesting romantic histories.   
"Plantagenet women." She corrected. "My Lady Grandmother lost her heart to a dashing conqueror, I was told."   
"By whom?"   
"My Late Mother and the Queen of France who had it from My Lady Grandmother, herself, their marriage became a love match, he never took another woman to his bed. Would I have one." Mary mused.   
"You have me, Moll." He offered quietly the longing in his voice unmistakable.   
"We are not married."   
"We can pretend." He offered.   
Was she willing to take that incredibly dangerous risk of letting him in her bed? He was so deliciously tempting. Not a soul would ever find out; she was being just as romantically reckless as her aunts, Margaret and Mary had been with Archibald Douglas and Charles Brandon. "We can." She breathed her gaze capturing his in the candlelight.   
"You give me hope, Darling." He said.   
"Do I?"   
"More that you know." He answered in such a way that sent shivers down her spine making her heart flutter. He was most certainly worth taking a great risk for. As she always rationalized to herself, if matters were different they would be married to one another with a growing nursery of children.   
Mary and Tom made their way to the large Great Hall.   
"Her Grace the Duchess of Bedford, Cambridge and Cadiz. The Earl of Durham." The majordomo announced the guests breaking into applause as Tom escorted Mary to the High board pulling out a fine carved oak chair upon which set an embroidered cushion emblazoned with her new Coat of Arms, his front brushing up against her back, as the pair maneuvered in the space. The physical contact setting off sexual fireworks between them, there was no denying their intense physical attraction.   
"It is my pleasure to welcome all of you, my honored guests, to Hunsdon. I pray that you will enjoy the meal and entertainment this evening." Mary said, smiling warmly her eyes meeting many of her guests before she sat down whilst the chaplain said the Blessing, servants bringing forth platters of trout, carp and salmon sautéed in lemon, butter, white wine and dressed with fresh dill sprigs and slivered slices of more fresh lemon, passing carafes of fine Italian white wine and loaves of fine manchet bread to wipe of the sauce along with platters of prawns in a garlic, basil, wine and minced onions sauce and boiled lobsters with drawn butter.   
Mary took some of the trout, a piece of salmon and some prawns.   
There were also oysters which Tom took about half a dozen downing them quickly, several of the men within earshot commenting upon the aphrodisiac qualities of the food as they themselves made slightly lewd gestures to their wives.   
"Her Grace must have a comely wench for His Lordship to slate his lust on, eh? Mayhap one of those foreigners from the East she has about her if his lust rides high on him after eating those oysters." One of the guests whispered to another.   
"Heheheheh! He is a handsome one! Mayhap he will require the pair of them?" The other gentleman asked, crudely. "Though Her Grace would not be one to countenance such behavior beneath her roof she does hold to strict morals."   
"His Lordship is here at the behest of His Majesty the King, he would never engage in any sort of behavior that would be considered untoward or lewd. Poor Durham, if he feels the inkling, will have to discreetly take a willing serving wench."   
The other fellow nodded. "True! The likes of the Beauty seated beside him is off-limits. Remember what happened to the Earl of Merioneth? Harry Tudor would not think twice of doing the same to such as Tom Nicholls if the earl ever thought of touching his Precious Pearl. Though, I daresay, King Harry and Queen Catherine's girl would be worth losing one's head over! She has grown into a rare and precious jewel."   
"Aye! If the king knew what went about in the heads of his male subjects when Her Grace was about the scaffolds about England would be full." The other man remarked, snickering crudely.   
"Not me! Though she could incite a bit of lust in this Old Dog if I were married to the likes of her probably end up killing me, as well. Nay! Leave her to the likes of that Half-Moor she is married to or Durham, there! I am certain he'd be delighted to give her a rousing time in bed if he could."   
The other fellow nodded, taking a sip of his wine. "They make a fine pair!" He stated.   
"Aye! That they do!"   
The banquet progressed apace, more courses following, each more elaborate than the last, grouse sent by Franco, stuffed with rice, herbs and dried fruit, roast chickens, Cornish hens, beef covered with salt and savory herbs, turned about on a spit until it was roasted rare, boar and venison. Each course being accompanied by the appropriate vintages of wine from France and Italy both red and white.   
Dessert was gingerbread, warm from the ovens and served with freshly whipped cream.   
"Ah, Your Grace has a wee bit of cream on your lip. There!" Tom pointed to a spot in the corner of her mouth dipping his head toward hers, their gazes locking.   
Mary lowered her eyes, ascertaining his intent. "Your Lordship seeks to kiss me! Not here, My Lord. "   
"Where then?"   
"In private."   
"Are we were this afternoon? How I ache to kiss much more of your person than those pretty lips of yours, Darling." Tom said.   
"Do you?" She asked.   
"You know I do. I burn with an unquenchable fire." He whispered near her ear, his long elegant fingers lacing through hers that were resting on the table, giving them a gentle squeeze.   
"Your Grace, May I present Simon Hardy?" The majordomo asked drawing a gentleman forward." He owns Oakwood Place on the other southern side of the village."   
"The pastures dotted with the large sheep herds?" Mary asked.   
"Yes, Your Grace." Hardy replied.   
"You have lovely lands, Sir Simon, green fields, prosperous tenants. I pray that you have availed yourself to Hunsdon's hospitality? Lord Durham have you been introduced to Sir Simon Hardy?" Mary asked noting how Tom was assessing the other man, measuring him, knowing that he would be no threat to Tom's relationship with Mary. The prosperous sheep farmer was happily married to a pretty plump blonde with ample tits and hips. The pair had five children, three daughters and two sons with one more on the way. He would want nothing romantic to do with the duchess but he did wish to foster social and business relationships with her.   
"Lord Durham." Sir Simon gave the earl the proper respect due Tom Nicholls's position.   
"Sir Simon, we hope to discuss prospects of engaging in some business together."   
"Of course, Milord, I would be delighted to wait upon Your Lordship" Sir Simon said. "Your Grace will present the prizes at the village fair? It would be our deepest honor and privilege to have you, Madame. We would be delighted if Lord Durham would accompany you if Your Grace is so inclined we dare not assume..." Sir Simon stammered.   
We, Sir Simon?" Mary asked.   
"Begging Your Grace's sincerest pardon, I did not intend to offend. I meant Sir Ambrose Newman, Sir Benedict Thornton and me."   
"Your Grace's two other neighbors." Tom provided.   
The pair of gentlemen over there?" Mary asked looking past Sir Simon to two men, one ginger haired the other a dark brunet with piercing pale blue eyes. Both strikingly fair to look upon in their own manner. "Present them Rhys."   
"Your Grace." Rhys said going about to do the duchess' bidding drawing Sir Ambrose Newman and Sir Benedict Thornton forward.   
"Sir Ambrose Newman. Sir Benedict Thornton." Rhys intoned.   
Both men bowed before the duchess.   
"Gentlemen, Sir Simon informs me that the trio of you wish me and Lord Durham to present the prizes at the village fair. Is that so?" Mary asked.   
"If it would please Your Grace?" Sir Benedict asked. He was the dark brunet with the pale blue eyes.   
"Yes. It would please me greatly. I would be delighted and honored." Mary said sweetly her eyes glittering with merriment in the candlelight. "Provide Lord Durham will assist me."   
"It would be a great privilege and honor, Your Grace." Tom said, smiling showing his adorable dimples making her heart turn over upon itself, flames of passion leading up her spine radiating through her limbs doing her utmost to mask her intense physical attraction to him.   
"If it would not be much of an imposition, erm... Your Grace..." Sir Simon stammered.   
"What Sir Simon wishes to ask Your Grace and Lord Durham to open the fair." Sir Ambrose said.   
"When does the fair begin?"   
"The following week. Near St. Crispin's Day, we have planned a commemoration to King Henry, of Blessed and Famous Memory and the Battle of Agincourt."   
"Lord Durham and I would be delighted especially with such a solemn commemoration. Father Cuthbert will preside at the Mass if the gentlemen present do not have one already chosen." Mary offered.   
"Father Daniel would be honored to preside with Your Grace's chaplain." Sir Benedict said.   
We will meet again to discuss the details and that which will transpire, say in two days time? Come for dinner." Mary stated.   
____________________________________________________________________________________

After all the guests had gone and everyone had sought their beds, Mary's women dressed her in a cream silk and lace nightgown , brushing her long red-gold hair letting it tumble in large loose curls down her back to her tiny waist, settling her in bed leaving her to enjoy a book by the light of the candelabrum.   
Upon hearing the sound of scratching on the door, Mary placed her book on the bedside table, tossing the covers off padding barefoot to open the heavy oak to reveal Tom on the other side dressed, it appeared, only in a brocaded robe and slippers looking six shades of gorgeous.   
"This is so incredibly dangerous." She whispered pulling him into her bedchamber, shutting the door.   
She was in his arms in moments, kissing him wildly with unabashed naked passion, lacing her fingers in his hair, drawing his head down to her as their mouths devoured one another's, Tom guiding her to an upholstered chair near the fireplace where the flames leapt and danced, drawing her down in his lap. Mary's delicious bottom nesting against his groin, one of his hands traveling beneath the silk and lace of her nightgown the tips of his fingers touching a royal knee moving higher along the smooth softness of her inner thigh.   
Mary shifted her weight in his lap, brushing against his erection beneath the fabric of his robe, making him gasp with pleasure. "Sweet Christ!" He moaned against her lips, swollen and wet from his kisses, dipping his head once more to drink from her sweet luscious mouth, the tips of his fingers moving higher against her thigh, sending shivers of pure desire through her, brushing the soft curls at the juncture of her thighs covering her sex.   
"She instinctively moved to the source of exquisite pleasure, letting his elegant fingers dip inside her, sighing with pleasure. "Oh, yes!"   
He found her hot, burning and so ready for him, slick with arousal, her hidden pearl of flesh already swollen and pouting with anticipation and her rising and increasing desire and excitement. God! She wanted him but not in a chair. "Please, Tom! Not here!" She said frantically.   
Wicked man! He immediately ascertained what she wished. "You prefer my tongue and mouth over my fingers, eh?" He chuckled. "Oh, Darling! I will be more than happy to devour you if that is what you truly desire. I ache for a taste of you." He said, maneuvering her in his lap so he could pick her up, rising from the chair, carrying her to her bed, laying her gently upon it, kicking off his slippers undoing the sash of his robe, shrugging it from his shoulders, drawing his arms from the sleeves falling about his feet allowing her to admire his magnificent body, the sight of him, enhanced by the candlelight making her flush with want of him liquid fire coursing through her veins. "Tom!" She crooked a finger at him as her other hand lifted the hem of her nightgown.   
"What do you want, Sweet Moll? You have to tell me." He wanted to hear her beg for it.   
"I want your tongue and mouth." She said, emboldened. What had gotten into her where she was behaving as a Woman of Questionable Reputation? Had her feelings for him drove her to it?   
"You do? Where, Sweet?"   
Mary's cheeks burned with the sensuality of their little game. "You know where!" She said. "I want you to taste me as you said that you ached to do. Come eat me!" She demanded.   
"Well, since you asked so graciously." He grinned, cheekily, climbing up on the bed between her spread legs. "So beautiful! So incredibly beautiful!" He murmured, his smoky blue-grey eyes sweeping over her, admiring her. "You are exquisite." He stated bending his head to kiss a path up her leg from an adorable dimpled knee, inside her smooth inner thigh to the core of her, inhaling the familiar scent of jasmine and roses she wore before his mouth closed over her sex, his tongue slashing across her clitoris, his hands reaching beneath to grip her bum, yanking her closer to him, making her nearly shriek with pleasure of the increased pressure on the most intimate part of her and his palms and fingers caressing her bum sending thrills through her. She tossed her head back on the pillows keening softly the incredible danger of what there were engaging in adding to the passion and urgency. The chance to be with him worth every risk, their affair was a secret that she would keep inside her heart and take to her grave. He had been nigh on irresistible to resist. Tonight she would take him into her bed. Even just for this one night but she sincerely doubted she would be content with just one.   
His tongue and his lips were giving her joy beyond imagining, his hands traveled from her bum running over her hip and waist to the closures of the nightgown pulling on the silk satin ribbons undoing the bows exposing her lovely bosom. Tom's fingers caressed the twin mounds of flesh, her nipples hardening with arousal into two pebbles aching under his expert ministrations. He was driving her near to madness.   
He was driving her near to madness with is passion. Ned was a talented lover, Franco an expert but Tom held a certain magic those two men lacked. Mayhap it was the intense level of their physical attraction for one another. He could set her pulses to pounding with a glance; bank her fire with a caress of those long elegant fingers. What he was doing to her now! Sweet Blessed Jesu! With his mouth and tongue! Her fingers tangled into his thick wavy hair, pressing his face further into her. The source of her joy increasing whilst his tongue stimulated her overly sensitive nub of flesh, her breath coming in soft hot pants, her teeth worrying her full lower lip to stifle her cries of rapture as a violent orgasm hit her, her body throbbing and spasming.  
"Oh, Tom! Oh! Oh! Tom!" She cried having a care to keep her voice low so that no one would hear.   
He did not wait for her orgasm to subside before her was inside her, filling her near to bursting with his great length sinking deep into her hot tight sheath. Things quickly rose to a fever pitch between them. Mary panting and whimpering by turns, clawing at the bed clothes beneath her then down Tom's muscular back, leaving little crescent marks and scratches upon his shoulders down the line of his spine as he continued moving within her.   
He loved listening to her deep throaty moans and keening cries as his sharp teeth nipped and sucked upon the sweet fragrant skin of her neck and shoulders, branding her with little love bites, continuing to make wildly passionate love to her, hitching her slender legs about his waist, inching that much closer to her, thrusting that much deeper inside her, making her keen that much louder, begging him for more and more, crying at him never to cease, that she would die if he stopped as Mary virtually melted into the mattress as he drew her down into that vortex of exquisite pleasure, unnatural passion and flaming desire, then, quickly traveled with her up to the heavens and the stars, the pair of them violently climaxing one after the other, Mary frantically drawing her nails down his back as she shuddered ferociously in her ecstasy.   
He held her close afterward, not wanting to let her go, stroking her hair and back as they lay together within the bedclothes, spooning her, nuzzling her neck as they enjoyed their own special intimacy. "Did I please you?" He asked, the tip of an index finger swirling patterns over her breasts, down over her taut flat torso, his other fingers quickly joining it as he moved them down to cup and caress a rounder hip whilst his lips planted tender kissed along the line of her shoulder.   
"Oh, yes! Every moment! Did I please you? "She asked, turning her head back to look at him.   
"What manner of question was that? You were magnificent, sheer and utter perfection." He complimented.   
"Was I?"   
"You doubt me? So much so that I must have you once more, Darling."   
"Tom? So soon?" She asked, surprised and flattered all at once.   
He grinned, chuckling wickedly. "Yes! I cannot get enough of you. You are a fire in my blood that I can never extinguish. I will always desire and want you."   
"Tell and show me what pleases you. What are your deepest desires?" She asked turning her back about wriggling her bum provocatively against his organ making it swell and lengthen.   
"If I lift your hips up a wee bit I could impale you. You will soon be on the ride of your life."   
"Could I?" She flirted, pressing her back into his rock hard chest, grasping the hand that was cupping her hip, guiding it over her lower belly toward her Venus mont. "But I so desire and wish to please you, Tom."   
"Wicked and naughty Tudor wench!" He teased chuckling.   
Mary giggled. "Your wicked and naughty Tudor wench wishes to please you." She purred releasing his hand wriggling away, rising, getting off the bed, reaching from an ermine throw at the foot, wrapping it about her so it fell to her knees.   
"Where are you going, vixen?" He asked.   
"For water and cloths to cleanse our privates." Mary explained, pouring water from a pitcher on a nearby sideboard in to an engraved silver basin heating on a brazier near the fire, grasping two fine Egyptian cotton cloths then walking gracefully toward him swaying her hips enticingly, letting the ermine slither sensuously from her down her slender limbs, pooling at her feet, Mary kicking it away gently with a foot, her eyes sweeping over her lover who awaited her upon the bed.   
Impatient he reached for her as she reached the bed.   
"You could entice a saint, houri!" He growled pulling her to him, nuzzling her neck, nipping the chords gently with his teeth, causing her to giggle.   
"Tom! The water and the cloths!" She reminded him, steadying the silver basin preventing the water from sloshing over the bed.   
"Oh!" He exclaimed easing his hold on her allowing her to sit up dipping one of the cloths in toe basin, wringing it out. turning about, tending to his member that swelled and pulsed under her ministrations.   
Mary taking the greatest care, feeling him, steel cased in velvet, soft and hard all at once.   
"Christ, Darling!" He groaned his deep blue grey gaze meeting hers, his lust riding high on him, watching her intently as she bit her full rosy red lower lip, her long lashes fanning against her pale gently flushed cheeks when she looked down briefly, then up into his devastatingly handsome face. Sapphire blue eyes twinkling in the candlelight, her teeth releasing her lower lip, the tip of her tongue snaking out to dash over it.   
"Oh, Moll! What I would have you do with that tongue!"   
"What is that?" She asked.   
Tom looked down at his engorged member, long and hard, magnificent.   
Mary ascertained his intent but chose to ignore him, instead she chose to inch further forward her nipples brushing against his chest, hardening, dipping her head, trailing a path of scorching kisses from his chest southward to his navel and then back again, easing herself up, catching his eye, dipping her cloth in the basin, wringing it out.   
"Let me!" He rasped, grabbing for it, taking it from her hand, washing her between her legs, stimulating her intimate place with his fingers covered in the fine soft Egyptian cotton making her moan, the sound low and sensual in the back of her throat.   
"Oh, Tom!" She crooned, undulating her hips suggestively against him.   
"Straddle my head." He ground out taking the basin and cloths, placing them on the night stand, scooting down the pillows of the bed. "Go on, Sweetheart." He coaxed.   
Mary trembled, her mouth suddenly going dry as dust. "Which way?" She whispered.   
"Face my feet."   
"Oh!" She flushed all over her stomach muscles tightening, every fiber of her being thrumming with white-hot desire, doing as she was told, offering herself to him, leaning over his hard muscular chest and torso grasping his erection in a slender hand drawing the tip toward her mouth, closing her lips about it, sucking it gently as one would a sweet, the tip of her tongue swirling over the head as the point of his tongue flicked back and forth over her clitoris sending waves of pure molten fire through her entire body, making her mouth go slack for a moment, her lips parting, l a moan of intense pleasure escaping . "OOOOOHHHHHHHHHH, Tooooooom!" She whispered breathlessly in the quiet of the room, pressing her hips down toward his face, seeking to get closer to the source of the fierce hunger he was creating in her, how she was burning for it, craving it, with every portion of her body. God! She wanted him so desperately; him and what his mouth and tongue were so capable of doing to her.   
"Come for me, Darling!" He encouraged, feeling her thighs tensing about him, knowing she was getting closer and closer with each flick of his tongue, reaching his hands up he grasped both sides of her lusciously rounded buttocks, digging his fingertips into the firm flesh, holding her steady, his tongue continuing to wreck delicious havoc on her sex. Her body begging for relief that she could no longer deny, her orgasm slamming into her, Mary biting her lips to contain her screams of pleasure.   
Feeling him slipping from beneath her, pitching her hips forward, forcing her to place her palms on the bed to steady herself, tracing the line separating the twin moons of her bottom with his erect and hard organ, pulling back ever so slightly, then thrusting deep inside her.   
"Oooohhhh... Mary!" He groaned feeling her tightness clamp about him, grinning when he heard her gasp, her breath hitching.   
"Toooooom!" She cried his name softly. He was filling her near to overflowing, thrusting in and out, the tip of a forefinger finding her clitoris, moving over it with agonizing slowness, leaning forward, his body covering hers, his nose tracing along the length of her slender neck, then his mouth, leaving a trail of burning kisses.   
"Enjoying this?" He asked, so desirous to please her. "Because I am, you are exquisite, so tight, so wonderfully, incredibly tight." He whispered huskily his words, the stimulation and incredible feeling of him thrusting inside her sending her soaring once more, another fantastic climax hitting her, her whole body seeming to throb and pulse with the force of it as he brought her to Paradise once more.


	19. Chapter XIX

Mary looked at the man dozing beside her beneath the warm and cozy bedclothes. The lines and planes of his face were not as sharp, she thought as she studied him in the candlelight, loving how his long lashes fanned against his pale cheeks, the line of his brows, the slight shadow of deep auburn scruff on his jaw line and above his upper lip which one of his gentlemen would shave off that morning, knowing how she preferred him clean shaven, devoid of any facial hair, as her Late Mother, Queen Catherine had preferred Mary's father, the King. Tom would do it to please her, or so she strongly suspected especially when he had chafed his smooth jaw against her sensitive thighs last evening, driving her wild as he had orally pleasured her once more, taking great pleasure in learning that he possessed an ability to make her virtually melt into the mattress.   
What he had done to her with his mouth and tongue afterward... She shivered with longing at the memory, goose flesh breaking out all over her skin. Their third bout of lovemaking that evening.   
"What is it darling? Do you require further attention?" Tom asked groggily, opening his eyes to half mast. "Come snuggle me beneath the bedclothes. I crave your fiery warmth." He coaxed.   
"My passion, you crave my passion, you satyr." Mary teased.   
"You may have to pay for that." He retorted, instantly awake, pulling her down against him. The pair rolling about beneath the bedclothes, giggling and tickling one another until Mary was pinioned beneath him, having a care to be quiet to avoid detection.   
"I want you!" He whispered huskily, his voice thick with want and need, his eyes searching hers as he gazed down at her, wedging a knee between her thighs. She knew that he was already hard and erect with his desire for her but that he would tease and torment her with his hands, mouth, teeth and tongue before he took her, impaling her with the large thick lance between his legs. She shivered with the anticipation, licking her lower lip with the point of her tongue.   
"Then take me! Make me yours!" She encouraged him. I want you inside me! All of you. Every inch..." She purred.   
"You do?" He asked, grinning wickedly.   
"Uh-huh. But first I want you to use your mouth, teeth and tongue..." She whispered, blushing hotly, turning her face away still embarrassed and shy about being so blatant and baldly honest in her desire for him.   
"Oh, Darling, come now, there is nothing to ashamed of. I am most flattered that you want me with the same burning intensity that I want you." He said, grasping her jaw with a thumb and elegant forefinger, turning her face back to him. "A fox must have his mate. You are mine. All mine!"   
"Mmmmm... All yours?"   
"Yes! Every precious inch of your beautiful and tantalizing body."   
"What of you, My Lord?" She asked.   
"You know that I am yours, body, mind, heart and soul."   
"I believe that I enjoy the body most of all." She said, tracing the tip of an index finger from his chin down to his neck, over his chest venturing southward. Was it the intense danger of their affair that made her so reckless and wanton? Was it the realization of her deep love for him and the intense level of physical attraction that they shared for one another? The indescribable magic between them something she could not place a finger upon but knew that she lacked with Franco and Ned. Could it be the familial connection? The shared Woodville blood?   
Tom chuckled watching her intently. "Especially when it is giving you exquisite pleasure. Like... this..." He said, leaning down capturing her mouth with his in a passionate kiss, his mouth caressing hers, pressing his lean and hard body against her, his chest crushing her sensitive breasts.   
Mary moaned against his mouth. "Oh, Tom... "She whispered, huskily.   
"Yes, My Darling. Shall I give you what you crave, My Hot-blooded Welsh Witch? I am under your spell..." He said, kissing her chin. His mouth working down her body leaving a path of scorching hot kisses, virtually burning her overly stimulated skin. His lips touching her abdomen , against her ribs, the dip in her waist, the swell of a hip, across her belly, his tongue swirling about the perimeter of her navel, grazing it with his teeth. "So beautiful, so incredibly beautiful." He murmured against her heated skin, moving even further southward, his breath hot against the tangle of gold curls, lifting her white thighs onto his shoulders.   
"Oh, God! Tom!" She cried quietly when his tongue touched her there in the most sensitive and intimate place. "Yessss.... Oh, Yesssssss.... Please!" She encouraged him becoming more and more aroused with each flick of his talented tongue against her until she was writhing beneath him, panting hotly, every one of her nerve endings alive and pulsing bringing her to the brink.   
"I am going to take you now, " He whispered coming up, hovering over her, blue-grey eyes staring intently into sapphire blue. He eased into her, slowly, filling her hot burning sheath with that delicious lance between his legs, watching her as he took her.   
Mary groaned, closing her eyes, reveling in the fullness of him inside her, feeling him on all sides moving against the velvet vise like walls of her passage, each thrust causing her to tighten about him a fraction more.   
"Sweet Christ!" He moaned as she clamped down on him, his organ dragging along the lower wall of her sex with agonizing slowness awakening every overly sensitive nerve ending, bringing it to attention.   
Mary cried out, keening low in the back of her throat as things became more intense between them. "Ohhhh, Tom!" She breathed thrusting her hips up to meet his, opening her eyes to look up at him. "Please!" She pleaded, licking her lower lip all alluring and wanton. How she wanted to be kissed. She was just about there, each thrust sending her closer and closer to the edge and careening into exquisite fulfillment.   
He obliged her, his mouth crushing against hers in a demanding kiss, hungry and delicious, his tongue tracing along the seam of her lips, then thrusting inside, to battle with hers, mimicking the movements of the organ inside her.   
Tom dragging her shapely legs about his waist, quickening the pace, delving a fraction deeper, three more thrusts and she was gone, tumbling upward toward heaven, her entire body pulsing with the force and intensity of her orgasm, Tom finding his release soon afterward.   
"How do you feel?" He asked concerned, still embedded inside her his stormy blue eyes gazing into hers, a smile playing about his beautiful mouth.   
"Wonderful!" She replied.   
He smirked looking as the cat that had got the bird. "Of course you do." His smirk split into a grin.   
"Rogue!" She exclaimed, giggling.   
"Well?" He posed, winking at her.   
"Well? Indescribably wonderful."   
"So were you!" He commented, tracing an index finger tenderly over a gently flushed cheekbone down her cheek to her jaw, lower still over her neck, dancing it over her chest, making swirling patterns over her soft and fragrant skin.   
"Wonderful for you!" She replied softly, smiling up at him, it was still dark outside, she could see the moonlight and stars in the midnight blue sky through the diamond paned casement windows of her bedchamber, the embers in the fireplace cast a golden glow. "When must you be going?" She asked, not wanting him to part from her, not so soon. They still had several hours yet, didn't they?   
"I can only stay and hour or two longer, Sweet. I dare not chance a scandal. My bed must be seen to have been slept in. I must be beneath the bedclothes when they come to awaken me." Tom explained.   
It was difficult to leave her two hours later, dressed in his robe and slippers, holding her close, kissing her feverently. "I will come to you tonight!" He promised, not wishing to leave her, just another hour... what was one more hour? He asked himself, dashing an index finger across her full rosy lower lip, wet and swollen from his kisses. "Sleep now! Your women will be soon arriving to wake and bathe you, to prepare you for Mass and the day. I look forward to see Your Grace in the chapel. Until then My Dearest Darling." He whispered huskily, withdrawing his finger from her luscious mouth. Capturing her lips once more in a quick kiss, teeth nibbling her lower lip, he was gone.   
_________________________________________________________________________  
Edward stood in attendance behind His Majesty in the Queen's Privy Chamber as the pair broke their fast after Mass that morning. He tried his best not to make eye contact with Nan Bourchier, one his wife's cousins and his sister's new Lady in waiting, who was staring at him. Her gaze predatory, her brown eyes assessing him as one would a sweet meat when one wished to devour it. He knew that the lady was ripe for a dalliance but was he so inclined? He would rather toss himself into his work since the Object of His Affections was not at court but in Herfordshire where he had left her. One of her embroidered handkerchiefs, one that he had stolen, the one with the Cadwallader dragons and Tudor roses, tucked into his doublet, the faint sensual scent of jasmine lingering upon it. Her scent! He could still feel the warmth of her skin and the intoxicating taste of her lips. He prayed that there was still hope for them. That she would not forget him and what they had at one time meant to one another. He would mend their rift.   
Edward tried to look any place but at Nan. She was not being discreet in her interest or intent. He had been at court long enough to know that many of the Court ladies were of loose morals and questionable reputation but to engage in such behavior literally behind the back of the king was insufferable and a breach of protocol. The woman was a bold baggage, married as well to a baron. They pair having recently come to court rising with the rest of the Seymours and their scatter relations when Jane became queen. He wondered if this was the same Nan that Tom, his brother, one evening whilst in his cups, having drunk several glasses of fine Italian wine, had bragged had a most talented tongue and was incline to employ 'French Pleasures' to please her lover as his younger brother had let slip. Edward had had the misfortune to have been cuckolded by his own father who had had an affair with his first wife, Catherine Filliol, he was not about to share the favors of a woman with his brother or be the second Seymour to try her. He would not have known what he would have done had the king matched Mary to his brother instead of Don Franco. He could not bear the thought of his brother being intimate with Mary Tudor.   
Nan was becoming frustrated. If he would only turn his head and look her way. He was a fine one. She had been dying to get him in her bed or between her thighs since he had married her cousin, Anne Stanhope. She wanted to know if there was fire beneath that cold exterior if did ice truly run through Edward Seymour's veins. She was dying to learn what truly transpired between the viscount and the Duchess of Bedford, Cambridge and Cadiz when he was her 'protector'. It was apparent that he was inordinately fond of the king's eldest child but so were so many other gentlemen of the court, Catherine of Aragon's girl had grown into a beauty, Nan thought grudgingly. She sneered. Finally! She thought taking advantage of the opportunity to glance up at into Lord Beauchamp's stormy blue eyes. Would he be as wickedly naughty as his brother? Who had enjoyed a bit of rough play with his fucking. She thought offering an invitation with her eyes.   
Edward glared at the woman, arching a fine brow over one of his eyes, pursing his lips with distaste focusing his attention upon King Henry, who was wiping his mouth with an intricately embroidered napkin whose stitches he immediately recognized as Mary's praying that Nan Bourchier would focus her hungry eyes on his brother, Tom and leave him alone.   
He was going to be a challenge! Nan ascertained. How dare he rebuff her! She wondered if that flame haired half Spanish bitch was a part of it. What manner of hold did the Princess Mary (yes, that girl would always be a princess to Nan) have upon him? A sense of loyalty or had the lady gotten under his skin and fired his blood? She knew that his wife, Anne Stanhope was unfaithful. Poor man! What manner of entertainment did he engage in at night in that cold bed? Because it must be cold, ice cold. She watched him through lowered lashes planning the nature of her seduction. Because she would have him! She vowed to herself. She was looking forward to comparing the amorous skills of the Seymour brothers.   
_____________________________________________________________________________________________  
"Well, My Lord, which mount in your opinion would His Majesty, my father, find most agreeable?" Mary asked leading Tom past several stalls to where the prize beasts were kept. "There are these four to choose from. I was considering the two grays stabled down at the end." Mary said motioning for Tom to follow her to the stall of the first horse, a young stallion. Upon hearing Mary's approach he tossed his lovely head out, nuzzling her with affection.   
"Hello, you handsome lad." Mary said, stroking the stallion's nose as it foraged about for a treat. "Not yet, glutton! Be patient!" Mary admonished it as the horse's nose stiffed about her determined to find whatever morsel she had hidden about her person for him. He knew that there was something. In his experience the lady always had something for him.   
The stallion did not care for Mary's response. He was greedy and wanted that bit of carrot or apple! He tossed his head once again, the movement sending Mary back directly into Tom's arms, her back colliding with his front, her bum brushing tantalizingly against his thighs through the layers of her dress, kirtle and petticoats.   
"Easy now!" Tom exclaimed grasping Mary about a hip and waist. His fingers splaying against her.   
Mary started at the contact, her heart began racing in anticipation, a warm tingle spread throughout her limbs. She swallowed her mouth suddenly dry as dust, turning her head about to stare into his eyes, sapphire meeting stormy blue them slowly as their faces got closer... Closer... Closer...   
His mouth crushed against hers, capturing her lips with his, pulling her into his arms, slamming her against the horse's stable door, the stallion nickering and pulling back in slight alarm as Tom kissed her with great passion, his kisses hard and demanding, seeking to take all she had to give him.   
"Tom! Oh, Tom! Please!" She breathed hotly against his mouth, pressing her body against his as he continued to ravage her lips with his.   
"I am here, My Precious Darling!" Tom replied, running the tip of his tongue along the seam of her mouth whilst his teeth nipped at her lips, gently, playfully coaxing them apart until her mouth opened beneath his, his tongue slipping inside to do battle with hers, fencing with it as they danced about with each other in the space between the stalls, Tom holding her tight against him as they seemed to float over the straw strewn upon the floor, one of his hands sliding down her back, over the small of it to her bum, hitching her against him, pulling her that much closer, chuckling when he heard her moan with desire against his mouth as they continued to kiss one another.   
"Sweet Christ!" He whispered, passionately, as her arms went about his neck, fingers of one hand lacing into the fine hairs at the nape, massaging the muscles moving down to clutch at one of his broad shoulders as the earl slammed her up against another stable door making the horse whinny finally breaking the spell .   
"Tom! Tom! Please! You have to stop! What if one of the grooms or stable lads catches us?" Mary asked, pulling her mouth away from his finally coming to her senses.   
"They would not dare say a word against Your Grace!" He reassured her brushing the back of a hand tenderly across one of her cheeks.   
"People gossip!" Mary countered.   
"If they cast aspersions against Your Grace's stellar reputation and seek to blacken your name I will run the offenders through with my sword." He said, punctuating each word with a kiss from her forehead to her still swollen wet pink lips.   
"What of your reputation? You would have destroyed it and mine!' Mary asked. "Remember my cousin, Lady Margaret Douglas and Lord Thomas Howard are presently in the Tower of London for such behavior."  
"They dare not question their betters. What they witnessed, if they indeed did witness anything was merely an illusion." Tom told her. "I am not through with you yet. Not by far, I can promise you. Now let us see about those horses..." Noting that even though she had pulled her mouth away from his she had not removed her arms from about his neck nor stepped away from him. She was still firmly held within his arms and appeared not that anxious to leave them. He smiled smugly with the knowledge.   
_______________________________________________________________________________________  
The sunlight shone through the diamond paned lead casement windows dancing patterns across the fine Oriental carpet and the gryphon badge Mary sat sewing, skeins of colored silk embroidery thread draped across her shoulders hanging down over her bosom, her women surrounding her, the pair of mastiffs snoring quietly at her feet having been worn out by an game of fetch that she and Tom had played with the pair earlier.   
She looked up for a moment and over at Tom who sat on the window seat lazily draped amongst the pillows his long legs sprawled before him, engrossed in Machiavelli's The Prince his brows knit in concentration, a fine ripe autumn apple cradled in one of his palms. He brought it to his mouth, his white teeth flashing, taking a bite of the crisp red skin.   
"Is Your Lordship finding your book interesting and engaging?" She asked, looking at him through her lowered lashes, a smile playing about her mouth.   
"Yes, as it was the first time I read it." He replied, tearing his gaze from the book to over at her, the corners of his mouth turning up, breaking into a grin, he winked. "Most engaging."   
"Your Lordship mocks me?!" She asked, unable to hide the laughter in her voice.   
"Not at all, Your Grace!" He retorted sitting up, placing the apple on a side table, giving her all of his attention. "Would you care to discuss the book once I have finished it would be most certainly an interesting way to spend our evenings together, enjoying some rather lively intercourse." He posed, his eyes twinkling with mischief.   
"It would be my pleasure to engage in lively intercourse with Your Lordship...in regards to Machiavelli's The Prince." She replied, her cheeks flaming scarlet, she prayed that none of her women noticed how flustered their mistress had become or the Earl of Durham's reaction. How he had sat up and was now giving the Duchess his full attention, his gaze fixated upon her, pupils dilated with lust and desire.   
He took another of the apple, straight white teeth breaking the blood red skin, his mouth opening ever so slightly.   
How in Heaven could he make the mere act of biting into an apple appear so incredibly sensual and arousing? But he did! Damn the man! Or was she reacting as such because of the intimacy they had shared? She knew how those same flashing white teeth felt grazing over her naked flesh. Blinking she looked away, breaking their gaze for a brief moment in an effort to erase the most inappropriate picture that formed in her mind, feeling her cheeks flame even redder if that were at all possible embarrassed at her wicked thoughts involving her, him, her bare skin, his luscious mouth.   
"Your Grace, a messenger from His Grace the Duke." One of the gentlemen of Mary's retinue announced coming into the Presence Chamber accompanied by a youth dressed in dusty in armor, it appeared that he had rode long and hard. Mary would be certain to give him a bath and a meal when he done his duty.   
"More messages from My Lord?" Mary asked. "We just had word and gifts yester eve."   
"His Grace is anxious that Your Grace be under the protection of a gentleman that His Majesty and His Grace hold in the highest esteem. His Grace is content that His Majesty has appointed Lord Durham to that position. There is just a letter from His Grace outlining His Lordship's duties and what is expected of him whilst Your Grace is within is charge, Madame. I do hope that it does not offend but since Your Grace may be carrying an heir for England, His Majesty and His Grace felt it wise to consider and employ the necessary precautions." The youth recited his speech.   
"Did My Lord Husband His Grace the Duke say to repeat those words, soldier?" Mary asked.   
"Yes, Your Grace. His Grace of Bedford and Cambridge with some opinions from Their Graces of Suffolk and Norfolk and My Lord of Shrewsbury." The youth explained to Mary.   
Mary nodded. Men could be such Mother Hens when they thought their women were breeding watching the young soldier cross over to hand Tom a letter.   
Tom lay the book down on the cushion of the window seat, taking the proffered letter from the dirty soldier. "I thank you." He murmured.   
"My Lord." The young soldier said.   
Tom turned over the letter breaking the wax seal opening to read: 

 

My Dear Lord Durham,   
As matters escalate in Lincolnshire and other towns and villages throughout the north, I commend Your Lordship to, as is His Majesty's most expressed wish and command and what he doth most desire, to guard, protect and serve as is thy duty in the eyes of God, Our Sovereign the King and all men as a most humble and loyal subject of Our Most Dread Sovereign Lord, Henry of England, Eighth of that Name, God Save Him, our Most Beloved Spouse, Her Grace Mary of Bedford, Cambridge and Cadiz.   
I trust that Your Lordship will perform your duties as required and will see to and fulfill all and every pleasure, pastime and desire required by Her Grace whilst I am unavailable to serve her in every that is necessary to assure her continued comfort. Seeking to satisfy all Her Grace may wish, fancy and crave up to the time that His Most Gracious Majesty the King seeks to relieve Your Lordship of that which has been entrusted and placed so trustfully within thy keeping. For the Great Love that you bear His Majesty and Her Grace of Bedford, etc. (and dare I say myself?) undertake this task with the assurance that God, in His Infinite Grace, will look with favor upon you and your endeavor.   
With Profound Faith and Gratitude,   
Franco, Duke of Bedford, Cambridge and Cadiz 

 

Tom absorbed the words in the letter, slightly shocked, reading the hidden meaning behind Franco's words or the manner in which he wished to interpret them. Was Franco so assured of his prowess within the Marital Bed that he was confident that he had impregnated his bride sometime within the three days that they were closeted together? Or because of Franco's situation, he was foisting the parentage of the heir of their union upon Thomas with the understanding that Franco would recognize any issue from his marriage to Mary as his.   
"Good news?" Mary asked, having the courtesy not to pry.   
"Yes, Your Grace. His Grace was kind enough to put my appointment as Your Grace's guardian in writing with the endorsement of His Majesty so there will be no question as to the propriety of my presence here and where ever else we are seen together."   
"You Lordship is here at the invitation of His Majesty, no one dare question..." Mary began.   
"They won't. I will see to it." Tom reassured her, folding the letter and placing it between the pages of his book, grasping the apple, taking another bite.   
"There is a bath and a meal for you in the kitchen, a warm bed in the Servants' quarters. You must be exhausted from your ride." Mary said sympathetically to the soldier/messenger motioning for one of her ladies to show the young man out.   
Mary went back to her sewing, Tom to his reading, each sneaking periodic glances at one another.   
"I thought that we would take our evening meal in the library and afterward look through the crates of books that Mr. Cromwell sent." Mary said.   
Tom looked up from his book. "As Your Grace wishes." He said, wondering if she had ever made love in a library before.  
______________________________________________________________________________________  
After a long day attending the king, Edward was desirous to seek his bed, dismissing his gentlemen, unbuttoning his doublet, as her removed his neck chain, placing it near his jewel case on a table in his Presence Chamber were one of his grooms has left it after repairing one of his collars. He grasped Mary's handkerchief in his fist, inhaling the fine linen, placing a gentle kiss upon it, praying that there was a way that he could persuade the king to send the Duchess back to court. That truly the safest place to keep his daughter was within the court and not on her own estates being watched over by a well-favored earl. But the king had made up his mind and would not be swayed. He was adamant that Mary should remain at Hunsdon under the protection and guardianship of the Earl of Durham. So Edward had to wait rather impatiently to effect the reconciliation that he had begun upon his brief sojourn to Hertfordshire.   
He crossed the threshold into his bedchamber pulling at the ties of his shirt as he did so, so it was now open to his breast, falling open, showing an expanse of chest. He smiled faintly remembering how Mary had liked to run her fingers down his breastbone, over the hard muscles of his stomach and abdomen to his navel and lower... Damn it! How he missed her touch and the intimacy they had shared. "Oh, Mary! I am so very sorry..." He whispered into the silence of the room. His gentlemen had lit candles and stoked the fire. He started for a moment, a movement from the bed causing him to frown, his brows knit in a scowl.   
"I can make you forget all about her! Come to bed, My Lord! Let me help you to forget all about that Flame haired bitch! It will be quite delicious fun to compare your carnal skills with that of your brother and if there is truly ice running through your veins..." Nan purred seductively from the bed.   
"What are you in my...???" Ned asked, crossing over to the bed to find Nan Bourchier arrayed upon the fur coverlet, naked as the day she came into the world save a gold chain about her neck, kissing down her body, equally naked, with an intent to venture south to the core of her was Ursula Misseldon, who made a great show of licking her tongue about Nan's sex, moving her legs apart, fastening her mouth upon Nan's engorged clitoris.   
"MMMMMMM..." Ursula murmured with pleasure.   
"OOOOOHHHHH! Yessssssssss!!!" Nan purred. "Care to join us, Lord Beauchamp? We could make you feel so much better... It must be so dreadful to have to sleep in a cold bed every night... Lady Misseldon's cunny is so very wet and hungry for some attention."   
As if on cue, Ursula wiggled her bare bottom toward Edward, spreading her legs apart to display the glistening folds of her vagina, wet with anticipation, undulating her hips suggestively at the viscount.   
Edward watched the women together for a moment, feeling the organ between his legs swell with arousal. It had been a long time since he and Mary had made love to each other. However erotic the tableaux that he was witnessing, he would never succumb to temptation; he would not take his brother, Thomas' nor Sir Francis Bryan's leavings either.   
"Lady Misseldon shall have to find attention elsewhere." Edward stated crossing back into his Presence Chamber to find his brother there.   
"Ned! Thank God you are still awake! His Majesty..." Tom began.   
"What does His Majesty require at this late hour?" Edward asked. "No matter! Go into my bedchamber and take care of that which is one the bed with my compliments, Brother! If you need me I will be in my office."   
Thomas Seymour walked over the threshold into his brother's bed chamber, hearing whimpers and mews of pleasure, he made his way to the bed to find the pair of women now engaged in soixante-neuf, mutually pleasuring each other with their mouths and fingers. He chuckled, lecherously, quickly stripping off his clothes. "Wouldn't you pair of jades like to enjoy a randy cock?" He asked, joining the pair of women upon the bed.   
_________________________________________________________________________________________  
"The books that Master Cromwell sent are over here near the fireplace, on those tables." Mary said, grasping Tom's hand leading him through the library to the tables. "Many of these books were brought back by crusaders who went to the Holy Land hundreds of years ago."   
"What manner of subjects?" Tom asked curious.   
"We will have to investigate." Mary replied. "Master Cromwell has sent copies of Boccaccio's Decameron and Ovid's Ars Amatoria."   
"Where are they?" Tom asked, his eyes dashing about the stacks of books on the tables.   
"Patience, Tom. Remember good comes to those who wait." Mary admonished him lightly, giggling.   
"A man becomes quite impatient when it involves you and the prospect of enjoying your many and extensive charms." Tom countered. "The house is abed but for the guards. No one will ever know."   
"You are hot for me then? Your Lordship takes a grave risk. "   
"You have to ask? You are worth every danger, My Darling. "   
"Am I?"   
"Wicked Welsh Witch, you know that you have bewitched me. Even after one delicious night in your bed, I am now your slave. Every wish is my command. I am keen to find those books, Darling."   
"Those two particular tomes? But Thomas there are so many others to look through. Master Cromwell's inventory indicated romances, fantastic tales from different lands similar to Aladdin and a bestiary."   
"There is more to do in a library than read. What I desire to do to you. "Tom declared, possessively coming up behind her, drawing her against him, nuzzling her neck, bending his head to kiss a shoulder. "Every precious inch of you." He murmured low next to her skin staking his claim, grazing the smooth firm flesh with his chin against the sensitive place where her shoulder and neck met, the feeling of his smooth skin making her gasp with pleasure.   
"What of the books?" She whispered leaning into him, retrieving one of the tomes from a table, opening it, Tom looking over her shoulder still holding her in his embrace.   
"What of them? So curious and eager to learn are you not? What do we have here?" He asked, kissing the back of her neck.   
"A book of fantastical stories... or... Oh, God!" Mary exclaimed as she flipped through the pages of the book in her hand staring at the various illuminated illustrations that appeared to be getting more and more explicit as they went along. At present they were staring at a picture of a pair of female djinns and what appeared to be a soldier engaging in a rather lewd act. The soldier was reclining on what appeared to be pillows, his pantaloons down about his knees as one of the misty houris looked to be servicing him with her mouth. Whilst the other appeared to be kissing him, one of his hands in the mist about her hips suggesting that he was giving pleasure as well. Mary went to close the book. "I believe I have seen enough!"   
"Come now! Be brave. Are you not curious to see what will happen?" Tom asked, placing a hand on the book preventing her from closing it. "I do wonder if Master Cromwell knew that he was sending such manner of books to Your Grace. I suspect that he knows of the nature of the Decameron and Ovid but mayhap not such as this. Hardly the manner of gift one presents to a lady such as yourself even though Your Grace is a married woman and knows full well what manner of antics a man and a woman engage in whilst in their martial bed and, erm, otherwise." Tom added.   
"Master Cromwell is presently focusing all of his energies and attentions upon the rebellion in the north and the closing down of the monasteries. I doubt he had the time to personally peruse every book before he sent them all. Had he this particular volume may have not have been transported into one of these crates."   
"Because Sir Francis Bryan would have stolen it." Tom teased, helping her to turn to the next page.   
Upon looking at the next picture, Mary gasped.   
"It appears that the djinns are engaging in what we engaged in last evening, but he has two, I had but one." Tom said, studying the picture.   
One of the djinns was straddling the soldier's mouth whilst he orally pleasured her as the other rode him.   
"Would you have preferred two?" Mary asked, curious. Drusilla and Lavinia had told her that some men did need two partners in order to receive fulfillment.   
"Heavens no! I am most content and profoundly happy with one, especially when that one happens to be you, Darling."   
Turning her head about, she kissed his smooth chin. "Just me then?"   
"Yes! Only you, Mary!" Tom replied. "Only you, My Love. No one else, I swear it! "   
She turned back about with a smug smile adorning her pretty mouth that made Tom chuckle. He adored it when she showed him that she was jealous. The greedy girl wanted him all to herself and was not about to share even after just one night with him. "Are we quite done with this book?"   
"If you wish. I thought that you may wish to look at one more page?" Tom posed.   
"Would you care to? Oh, just one more." Mary turned to the next page where one of the djinns was stimulating the other with her mouth in the other's private place. Mary blushed, remembering catching Lady Beauchamp and Lady Celeste Lannister, thusly. She did not even wait for Tom to comment, closing the book, laying it to one side, picking up another. It appeared to be a Book of Hours. As she lifted it and opened the cover several letters fell out. "Oh! What are these?" Mary exclaimed, startled, as she and Tom retrieved about a dozen that fell about, the first she picked up had her paternal grandfather's seal upon it. "Tom! Look!"   
"What is it? Is that the late king's...? It is! Should we be reading private correspondence?" He asked.   
Mary turned several pages of the Book of Hours as her conscience warred with her. Tom made a valid point. Did she want to? But then she looked at the pages before her noting the scribbles in the margins, the initials EP for Elizabeth Plantagenet. One page her grandmother had practised her titles and variations of her name, written there were, Elizabeth R, Elizabeth Tudor, Lady Richmond, The Queen. There was a pair of hands drawn, clasped with the initials HR and ER above, lover's knots beneath. "Oh, Tom! She truly loved him! Elizabeth loves Henry!" She translated from the Latin. "Bess adores Harry!"   
"Have you written as much about us in you your prayer book?" Tom asked.   
Mary smiled, blushing scarlet, shaking her head in the negative which was all the clarification he needed. "No." She mouthed. "Not yet."   
"What does the letter say?"   
Mary opened it, scanning the contents, sighing wistfully. "He wrote it soon after Bosworth. He addresses her as 'The Dearest Lady of My Heart'. He says that he looks forward to attending his addresses to her and his lover's suit once she reaches London. He inquires of the fine Burgundy wine he sent was agreeable and if it pleased her. He closes by telling her that he holds her in his prayers and that he looks forward to when God will allow them to be together in truth as well in spirit until they meet." Mary concluded. "Here is another with her seal! Grandmother Bess says...'My Dearest Harry you have conquered and secured the realm as you have conquered and secured my heart, spirit and very soul." She looked back at Tom, tears shining in her eyes. "I never thought in the beginning. But here is proof!" Mary said opening one letter and then another having her suspicions confirmed.   
Her Grandfather Henry, she learnt wrote quite the eloquent letter and was much in love with his beautiful young bride, who was just as enamored of her Welsh husband. The intense attraction between them, on many levels, came through in the words that they had exchanged all those years ago in what were clearly intimate and incredibly emotional love letters.   
"What do you intend to do with them?"   
"Place them in the box that you gave me so that I may take them out and reread them from time to time to remind that the rumors swirling about Grandmother Bess and Great Uncle Richard were false. The he was a lecherous man intent on committing a grievous sin! My Grandmother did not welcome his attentions, she writes that he repulsed her after she and my grandfather had discussed the matter at length in private, so is stated in one of her letters."   
"They shared a great love." Tom observed.   
"Yes, they did." Mary agreed. "Interesting to learn that Grandfather Henry was one of your godfathers..."   
"Our family ties were strong even though Henry Tudor did not trust Lord Thomas Grey. It was your sire that has brought honor upon our House. Honor and trust..." He said, nuzzling the back of her neck with his nose, his lips pressing gentle kisses upon the smooth skin, along where the strand of pearls that encircled her throat. "A great love that I happen to share for his granddaughter, what is it that entices me so? I am in danger of falling under your spell if I have not already succumbed to your charms." Tom murmured.   
"Have you?" She asked turning about in his arms, noting that he had changed into a robe and slippers, the deep midnight blue brocade enhancing his vivid coloring, opened at the neck exposing an expanse of chest and the smattering of hair upon it. She knew that he was naked beneath his robe, the realization set her heart to pounding glancing past him to the chaise in the room, biting her lower lip, looking up into his face.   
"You have no idea." He whispered huskily, his eyes darkening with lust and desire as they swept over her, admiring her frothy lace and silk wrapper and night gown of pale lavender blue silk. "I want you!" He stated without preamble, hus eyes searching hers, drawing her into his arms, kissing her, completely enraptured.   
She responded, tossing all caution to the four winds, winding her arms about his neck, the tips of her fingers lacing into the hairs at the nape of his neck, her breasts crushing against his chest as he slammed her up against one of the carved oak paneled walls, pinioning her arms above her head his mouth fierce and demanding upon hers, holding her there, traveling down her arms, pulling at her robe.   
"Oh, Moll!" He groaned his breath hot against her wet and swollen mouth. Moll, dear sweet darling Moll!" His elegant fingers tugging at the sash, his intent clear.   
"Oh, Tom! No! Please! Not here! Carry me to bed! My bed..." She whispered hotly. God! She wanted him!   
"Yes!" He said drawing her up in his arms having a care the movement did not result in compromising either of them. He carried her out into the torch lit hallway up the stairs to her bed chamber.   
"My Lord?" Two guards asked, seeing Lord Durham pass by with their mistress within his arms.   
"Her grace is indisposed. I am taking her to bed." His voice was strong and authoritative, breaching no argument. Reaching her suite of rooms, he opened the door carrying her though her Presence chamber into the bedchamber depositing her on the bed, gently, undoing the sash of his robe, shrugging it off, letting it fall to the floor, giving her a moment to admire him, chuckling at her blatant appreciative appraisal.   
She passed the tip of her tongue over her upper lip, crooking an index finger at him. "Come to bed!" She demanded gazing up at him through the light of the candles placed about the room enveloping it and them in a sensuous golden light.   
"Whatever shall I do once I get there?" He asked, his eyes dancing with mischief and mirth.   
"Make love to me."   
"What shall you do to me?"   
"Make you feel as though you are the only man in the world."   
"Is that a promise?"   
"Why doesn't Your Lordship come and find out? Do you promise to love me, Tom?"   
"In manner of ways that you never imagined."   
"Show me all of it, every bit."   
"Do you believe that you can endure it all?" He asked, moving his body over hers, coming to bed as she had demanded.   
"What does it entail?" She asked. looking up at him, feeling the weight of him next to her.   
"Shall I show you? This will all have to be removed first. "He stated, indicating her clothes, his voice a husky whisper, his mouth hovering precariously above hers, his lips brushing hers, unable to resist a kiss.


End file.
